


Circle's End

by azxrae



Series: The "Circle's End" Series [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jearmin - Freeform, M/M, Slice of Life, is this a slow-burn?, just your typical opposites attract fic, the vast majority of characters are fresh out of high school and like to do dumb shit, there's a lot of teen partying, though the kiddies aren't as unlike as they seem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2018-12-29 22:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 89,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azxrae/pseuds/azxrae
Summary: Hardened by his childhood, Armin Arlert knows the world can be cruel. His only reprieve is a capacity for academics, his intellect and his longing to improve his unfortunate life. The maintenance of a pristine GPA throughout the years granted him entry into one of the world’s most prestigious universities (and his dream school): Trost State.Meanwhile, the obscenely wealthy Jean Kirschstein, fresh out of prep school, is ignorant of life outside of his cushion of the upper-middle class. His acceptance into Trost has been anticipated his family for his entire life.It ‘s by the begrudging grace of their mutual friend Eren Jaerger that these two end up as roommates their freshmen year.





	1. Shades of Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Circle’s End has made a comeback! I know it’s been literal years and I'm sure most of this work's readers have long-since moved on, but I came to the sudden epiphany to revive and rewrite it. I wanted to continue the original but there were just… too many issues with the plot and the characterization and…. it’s just a cringy mess, okay? I love the story too much to abandon it completely, though, so it’s getting redone! The Jearmin community can never get enough of those good ol’ college aus, amirite?

**FRIDAY, JUNE 9 th: 3:19PM**

Eren Jaeger peered at his best friend. Across the table, a partly-distracted blond was all but _inhaling_ his steak burrito bowl. Delicate features wrought into a delighted expression.

“How is it?” the tanned boy asked in amusement.

Armin Arlert caught himself when he swallowed. A hand covered his mouth as his eyes widened in slight embarrassment.

“S’good.” His response came with a smile.

“Just good?” The other youth dropped his burrito into its basket.  “I refuse to believe that, ‘Min. I don’t think I’ve brought anyone here who wasn’t in love.” .He chuckled. “You come to Trost, you know you gotta try _Chipotle_ at least once. It’s like a rite of passage.”

Armin’s smile enlarged, content just to be near his best friend. “I’ll admit it’s yummy,” he relented. “Definitely some quality Mexican cuisine.”

They’d come to _Chipotle_ straight after the Jaegers picked Armin up from Central Station. He’d asked to eat there out of curiosity; The chain wasn’t popular in Shiganshina and he knew _Chipotle_ was both Eren _and_ Mikasa’s favorite place to eat. He wanted to experience the hype for himself.

That, and the boy was _famished_. He’d only had a bag of Doritos _before_ the six-hour train ride into the city.  

 

Speaking with Eren like this was surreal. It was definitely nice not having to rely on Skype, or letters, to get his attention. Of course, though, Armin kept each letter he received. It was unlikely he’d ever discard of the sentiment behind them.

He pushed his fork through his food, trying to even-out the lettuce piled at the top.

“Hey, Eren?”

Eren paused mid-chew. Beneath the table, the blond poked his calf with the tip of his oxford.

“I really missed you… That’s all.”

The green-eyed boy’s gaze softened. Clearly, he’d not expected Armin to get all  _emotional_ on him in a public setting _._  But it was well-received. Or, at least, it appeared as such from Eren’s smile becoming affectionate.

He reached across the table and squeezed a slighter hand.

“You know I missed you too, ‘Min.”

Armin was in high spirits, but his mood wasn’t what it could be when he’d yet to reunite with the third of their trio.

Mikasa was attending a dance camp another town over and wouldn’t be back until the end of the month.

It was, to say the least, unfortunate. Armin’s impatience to see her was becoming a  _nagging ache._

“I just wish Mikasa could be here…” The blond puffed his cheeks out. “Feels incomplete without her, doesn’t it?”

Eren agreed with a rueful nod. He tapped his smartphone and peeked down at the date.

“But hey, only sixteen more days and then _ErenMikArmin_ will be back at it again.”

It was difficult for Armin to refrain from laughing. Eren was still holding onto that ridiculous nickname he’d coined for them in middle school, clearly. The blond shook his head and rested his cheek on his palm.

“You’re the only one who calls us that for a reason, you dork.” Armin grinned.

Eren’s lips turned into his own grin. He’d started to retort, but a call to his left promptly claimed his attention.

“Yo, Eren! You on a date?”

Armin blinked at the unfamiliarvoice. He looked over and up, the unbidden thought that whizzed in being “ _wow, this stranger is attractive”._

It was a male, appearing to be of an age with the both of them. The smirk he wore stretched wide, and it seemed to kindle a start in Eren because he rose from the stool the moment he noticed his presence.

This youth stood only somewhat taller than Eren. His hair was a lightened, sandy brown and his face… It was as such that one _might_ compare it to a horse if they were looking to insult, but Armin thought he ranked quite high on spectrum of physical appeal.

He saw his Adidas gym-wear and surmised that he must’ve come from working out. The boy’s limbs were thin, muscular and hung lean against his sinewy build. Everything about his appearance embodied the word _long._

“Fuck off, Jean. No,” Eren growled at the other male. “Did you forget my best friend was moving here in June? This is Armin.” He gestured to the blond like he was a prize he was proudly presenting.

This “Jean”character raised his eyebrows (one of which had a silver barbell pierced into it) and tilted his head slightly.

“Oh, right!” Realization swept over his long face. “That friend you and Mikasa talk about all the time. Yeah, Armin.”

There were hints of what Armin though was a French accent in his speech pattern.

“You dumbass,” Eren snorted. “He’s right here. You see that, don’t you?”

Jean’s eyes grew more narrow than they already were. “Of course I fucking see that.”

When he shifted his attention to Armin, his expression was significantly more kind.

“Hi there,” he said to him. “Sorry I was kinda rude but I’m glad I’m finally meeting you, Armin.” He smiled and held out his hand.

“You weren’t rude.” Amin took the offered hand in his own. He expected a callous feel, but was instead met with soft and unblemished skin. He surveyed the designer clothing and suppressed a snort. 

_‘I bet he’s never worked a day in his life.’_

“It’s nice to meet you as well.” Armin mirrored his smile as he hoped Jean wouldn’t detect just how shy he felt. It was incomprehensible that Armin was so enamored by a stranger.

“So, um, that accent…” He traced his finger along his cup of Chery Coke. “Are you French?”

Jean expression instantly became cocky. “ _Oui. Je m’appelle Jean Kirschstein_.” His smirk was presemt as the words left him. “My grandfather is German, though. That’s where the last name came from.”

Eren looked immensely bored by the exchange. “I highly doubt he cares about your lineage, Horse Face.” He leaned towards Armin in a protective fashion.

“That’s for me to decide,” Armin said, failing to stifle his amusement at that weirdly fitting nickname. “And I decide I care.”

Jean peered at Eren triumphantly. “As you should, Armin. Eren mentioned you’re staying here permanently, aren’t you?” He shot his eyes to the blond and carded a hand through brown hair. “That means we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Thoughtfully, Armin sipped his soda. He glanced up when something suddenly dawned on him.

“Will you be attending Trost State in the fall?”

It was odd, but the comfort from from talking to Jean for this short while was similar to the buzz one got after having a drink at a party full of strangers.

He watched Jean nod eagerly and felt inexplicably warm.

_‘God… What even? I don’t know this guy!’_

“Just so happens I am!” the taller boy declared in a cheery voice. “I’m majoring in Studio Art. One day, I’m gonna sell my own stuff in my gallery.” He said it as if it was already a fact. Armin envied his confidence. He looked over to see Eren munching into his burrito. He licked away the sour cream that gathered on his lips.

“Don’t let his cockiness fool you, ‘Min,” his best friend said once he swallowed. “He’s not even that talented. Just an asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone.”

Armin wondered if the statement was the truth or Eren just said it because of the obvious animosity he harbored for Jean. Armin wondered about the reason behind that, too.

“You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’, buddy.” Jean shook his balled fist threateningly, which only made the brunet laugh.

“Did you really just quote _Grease?”_

“I think we can all agree it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Jean sniggered.

Armin nodded in avid agreement. _Grease_ was probably one of his favorite movies, now that he was thinking about it.

He drew in a breath when Jean looked at him again. To Armin, his eyes favored a Caramel Macchiato.

Jean’s face had softened a considerable amount. “So what’s your major?”

Armin could see Eren fingering his phone out of the corner of his eye.

“Astrophysics.”

Jean whistled, clearly impressed. “Astro—? So, like, you wanna be an astronaut, or what?”

“Um, no…” Armin shook his head, the corners of his mouth rising into a small grin. “I’d really like to study the cosmos and, in a perfect world, write books for NASA.”

The taller male was blatantly in awe. “Cosmos?” He blinked.  “Sorry, I pretty much slept through astronomy in tenth grade.” A sheepish chuckle followed the confession.

Armin didn’t understand how anyone could  _sleep_ through a science course (or any course, for that matter), but he didn’t speak on it. It would undoubtedly make him sound nerdy, and Armin found he wanted to leave the best impression possible on the handsome French boy that was currently standing before him.

“It’s the universe, you idiot.” Eren took another bite into his burrito.

“Eren,” Armin sighed at his friend. “not everyone knows scientific terms...”

“Yeah, E _ren_.” Jean punctuated the second syllable of his name in an attempt to annoy him. “No need to be a condescending asshole.”

When Jean looked back to Armin, his head inclined forward.

“Armin, I’d  _love_  to talk to you about space one day.” The sincerity in his voice surprised him a little. “Though, it’d mostly be an info session. I don’t know much aside from the names of the planets.”

“Careful, Jean,” Eren warned, chuckling as he looked directly into baby blue eyes. “Armin might just take you up on that and talk your fucking ear off.” He grinned. “I know from experience.”

“Oh, hush.” Armin kicked the brunet’s shin under the table. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know a whole lot more about what goes on outside of our galaxy because of me.”

Eren didn’t even pretend the impact hurt him. “You’re just proving my point, ‘Min. Once you get started about space, there’s no stopping you.”

“I don’t think I’d mind.” Jean leaned against the wall and crossed his foot over his ankle. “Yo, Eren, you bringin’ him to Karaoke Night?”

Armin’s interest was piqued. He looked between the two boys inquisitively.

“Karaoke Night?”

“Yeah, next Saturday. Our friends rented out a room at this sick karaoke bar downtown,” Jean informed him. “It’s a  _noraebang._ A Korean karaoke joint. You should come since you’re gonna be going to uni with us.” He smiled. “A friend of Eren and Mikasa’s is definitely a friend of ours.”

A sense of warmth settled in Armin’s chest at the notion. _Friends._ He’d never had many of those. Only Eren and Mikasa, and when they moved away, Armin was left alone.

Sure, he had his school peers, but he wouldn’t consider them actual friends. When it came down to it, Armin spent the better part of those years on his own. He never complained though. He always had his books and his grandfather, and that had been enough to sustain him.

“I’ll bring him.” Eren’s words pulled Armin out of his brief reverie.

“Just so happens Armin's got an  _amazing_  singing voice.” The tanned boy shot his friend a smile.

“H-hey, don’t exaggerate...” Armin blushed.

Jean took a step forward when the line moved, but remained at a proximity that he could keep his voice leveled when he spoke.

“It’s a damn shame Mikasa’s still in Yalkell,” Jean said, sighing wistfully.

“ _Dude_.” Eren rolled his eyes at Jean for what had to be the umpteenth time. “Let go of that crush already. As her brother, I can tell you she’s not interested.”

 _‘Crush?’_  Armin’s eyes widened slightly. He couldn’t help but feel a bit… Well, actually, he wasn’t entirely sure _how_ that knowledge made him feel. Armin just knew he was filled with the oddest, most misplaced sense of inferiority.

 _‘Does this mean… Jean exclusively likes women?’_ The boy brought his lower lip between his teeth. He couldn’t get why he even cared about a stranger’s sexuality.

Turquoise eyes watched Jean cross his arms.

“Shut up, Jaeger. You know I left that shit behind ages ago.” He looked at the brunet with venom in his eyes. “I was just saying, ‘cause she’ll miss Karaoke Night and it’s Squad tradition.”

 “You guys… are in a squad?” The information amused Armin.

“Yup.” Jean seemed proudto bestow this knowledge on him.

“Consists of me, my best friend, his girlfriend, Eren, Mikasa and this little blond girl that looks freakishly like your female doppelganger.” Jean gave him a once-over and grinned.

“Kris _does_ look a lot like you, Armin,” agreed Eren, chuckling from the other side of the table. “It’s actually weird.”

Armin took the final sips of his cola, huffing softly when he realized it was empty. He decided to focus on eating for the moment; he didn’t want his burrito bowl to get cold. Out of the corner of his eye, Armin noticed Jean push himself from the wall.

“Can I… ask where you’re staying, Armin? It’s kinda important.”

 _‘Why would my living arrangements be_  important _to him?’_  Both confused and intrigued, Armin licked away some lettuce from the edge of his mouth.

“Um…well, currently, I’m staying with Eren,” he told him. “But it’s temporary. I’d like to start renting a place in the student-housing district pretty soon.”

He eyed Jean while waiting for clarification.

“Oh yeah?” The handsome boy reeled closer, interested. “That’s awesome news, because I—”

“Fuck no.” Eren’s head whipped around instantly. “Don’t even suggest it.” The glare he fixed Jean with was _blisteringly_ cold.

“Suggest what?” Armin blinked curiously.

Jean crossed his arms and his lips fell into a smirk. The Apple smartwatch on his wrist lit up but he ignored it.

“My best friend and I have been searching for a roommate.” His eyes were on Eren as he spoke. “We’ve got a pretty nice spread and the rent’s hella cheap ‘cause it’s near campus.”

Armin heard the growl Eren emitted, but he had to consider it.

It would be ideal to continue living with the Jaegers, but Armin had too much pride to lean on them more than he already had. Being self-sufficient would always be of paramount importance.

“Wow...” Armin smiled kindly at Jean. “I’ll admit, that sounds—”

“It sounds awful.” Eren looked at the blond pointedly. “You’re not really thinking about it, are you?”

Armin might’ve groaned, but he wouldn’t deny he looked horrendously _adorable_ pouting at him like that.

“Eren…” He took larger hands in his and spoke firmly. “This is _exactly_ what I’ve been looking for, and you know it. All that work I put in last year wasn’t for nothing. I’ve already saved up enough for a few months’ rent  _and_  I have a job. It’d be sensible to put my finances towards something productive.” It had always pleased him to speak of things he knew would ultimately progress him in life.

Jean whistled again. “Sounds like you’ve got it made, Armin.” A taupe gaze shifted to Eren then.

“I think he should at least come  _look_  at the place. It wouldn’t hurt.”

Armin was considering doing so whether Eren approved or not. His opinion mattered of course, but the boy was capable of making decisions for himself. As Jean said, exploring his options couldn’t hurt.

“Jean, tell me more about the apartment, please.” Expectant eyes lifted to the taller male. 

Jean beamed, though he did seem hesitant when he stole another glance to his smartwatch.

“How about you give me your number instead?”

The suggestion was unapologetically bold. Armin was stunned. He saw the grimace Eren wore.

“I mean so I can text you and give you the details,” he elaborated, a sigh escaping after he said it. “I don’t think I can chat much longer. Connie – that’s my best friend and your maybe-future-roommate too – very  _explicitly_  said he wants burrito waiting for him when he gets off work. He’s been texting me nonstop to make sure I don’t forget.” Jean looked up at the ceiling for a short while and then flicked his eyes back to Armin. 

“It’s weird, but I’ve got a good feeling about you,” he said, smiling faintly. “We should FaceTime later. I’ll give you a virtual tour.”

Jean looked hopeful, which Armin found to be cute.  

Wordlessly nodding, he watched the other retrieve his iPhone 7, unlocking the screen with his thumb. Armin repeated the action and they exchanged their devices.

“I can’t believe this,” Eren was saying as Armin’s phone chirped with a new text an instant later.

“You  _do_ realize he’s a fucking douche, don’t you?”

Armin huffed and looked at the message. He punched in his contact as “Jean”, knowing he’d personalize it with emojis once he got to know him better.

The taller boy seemed exasperated by Eren’s apparent  _repulsion_. Armin pocketed his phone and pushed his food across the table, then rounded it to sit at Eren’s side.

“I should probably go.” Jean stared at Eren momentarily, then he shot Armin another smile. “Nice meeting you, Armin.” He walked backward towards the line.

“See y’all around!”

Eren waved his hand. Armin returned the smile with an even _brighter_ one.

“Bye Jean!”

Jean waved back before jogging off to order his food. When the smaller male turned back, Eren stared at him with a knowing look in his eyes.

“I  _saw_  that, Armin.” His expression was accusatory.

Armin’s smile faded. “Saw what?”

Eren reached around and held his nape, drawing him in so there wasn’t much distance between them.

“You were giving that bastard googly eyes the entire fucking time.” He spoke in a low murmur.

Armin practically  _squeaked_  and jerked backward, then remembered where they were and settled for a fierce whisper.

“W-what?! I was not!”

“You so  _were_.” Eren’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You like him? Is that why you wanna room with him?”

Armin pushed his fringe out of his eyes, staring at the brunet in disbelief. “No, I don’t _like_  him. I just met him like fifteen minutes ago!”

That damnable look persisted on Eren’s face, though. He swigged his drink then returned his attention to Armin. “Do you at least think he’s  _cute_?”

That was when Armin had to pause. He rested his elbows on the tabletop and sunk his head into his palms dramatically. He was counting on the hope that Jean hadn’t acquired a superhuman hearing ability and was able to hear him from the other side of the grill.

“Maybe a little.”

Eren scoffed, though he was unsurprised by the information.

“I really don't get that,” he sighed, “How the hell can anyone find  _Jean Kirschstein_  cute?”

Armin was digging through the remnants of his food and avoiding eye-contact with the other boy.

“From what I’ve seen, Jean seems… I don’t know, nice.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “That's just 'cause he has yet to rub his _dickery_  all over you.”

Armin curved his brow upward. “Why do you hate him so much?”

Eren shrugged. “I don’t _hate_  him. I’ve known him since I moved here and he’s in my circle of friends. I guess our personalities just clash sometimes.”

“Oh.” Armin nodded thoughtfully. For a while, they finished their food in silence. Armin reached into the shared bag of chips and dipped one into guacamole.

“Yo, 'Min.”

He looked at Eren curiously. “What’s up?”

The boy’s voice grew quiet again. “If you  _do_  become his roommate…” He huffed. “You… won’t start to like that bastard more than me, will you?”

The blond blinked at the question. The notion of him liking _anyone_ than Eren was entirely ridiculous. Armin felt inclined to smack him upside the head for asking something so _idiotic._

“You’re seriously asking that?” Armin shook his head, poking lightly to the side of Eren’s cheek. “Don’t be ridiculous, you dummy. You should know by now… You’re the  _only guy_ for me.”

His tone might’ve been playful but the words were deathly serious.

Eren was clearly satisfied by the reassurance. He squeezed the boy’s arm gently.

“Good.” He smiled. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

\- - -

**THURSDAY, JUNE 15 TH: 2:45PM**

Jean had been right when he said the apartment was  _nice._  It had ample space, with three moderately-sized bedrooms as well as a living area and an open kitchen with an island bar to serve as a dining space. There was one bathroom at the very back of the apartment.

Compared to a place further from campus, the rent was cheap, but it was definitely on the more luxurious end of things.

Of course, the decision to live there was made quickly. After all the paperwork was finalized, Armin began moving his stuff in. The lot of his things that he didn’t immediately need was kept in the Jaegers’ storage, though, so the process seemed to  _breeze by_. Armin wouldn’t deny he enjoyed spending time with Jean and Connie whenever they were hanging around the apartment.

It was all so surreal to Armin, and the feeling hadn’t worn off, not even on the following Thursday when Armin gripped his  _brand new key_ (wrapped in a Trost State University holder) and fitted it into the lock of Room 305.

He paused when a hand touched his shoulder.

“Y’know, it’s not too late to change your mind and come live with me instead,” Eren said. The seriousness of his tone provoked a laugh from Armin. Of course, he’d make such an offer when Armin’s mind was already completely made up.

“It actually kinda is.” He turned to smile apologetically at the brunet. He’d admit it was endearing how clingy he was to him, but Eren had to know this would be a good experience.

Armin always craved a life where he relied minimally on the support of other people. Renting an apartment – even if he currently was sharing it with two guys – was a start along that path.

“But hey,” Armin looked up at him. “we can still see each other at school _and_  work. Remember that.”

Eren grumbled, but it was the truth. He had been in dire need of a job after his high school graduation. Armin dutifully found work for him waiting tables at _Olive Garden_ , a job Armin had for months before he moved to Trost and was relocated closer to his ne home.

“School doesn’t start until the end of August.” Eren pouted slightly. “That’s, like, a whole  _two months_  of not constantly being in each other’s presence.”

“We managed it before,” Armin reminded. He closed his eyes at the memory of those years spent without his best friends. He couldn’t be more thankful that they were going to the same university in the fall. There was so much lost time that had to be made up for.

“I don’t know how we did.” Eren took the liberty of opening the door while Armin swallowed down his nerves.

 His eyes were immediately drawn to the focal point of the living room where Jean stood at his easel. His back faced them and he was singing loudly to some grunge song blaring from the kitchen.

“Yo Horse Face! Stop being a tool for a second, will ya?” Eren rolled his eyes and walked in front of Armin, tossing the blond’s overnight bag at the couch.

The noise made Jean jump and spin around, nearly dropping his pallet in the process. He narrowed his honey-brown eyes.

“Mother fuck— you’re early.” Sitting his art utensils on the stool, he wiped his hands on his smock and strode over. 

“I definitely wasn’t expecting you to bring _him_ , Armin.”

“I needed an extra hand. Couldn’t lug all this stuff over here by myself.” Armin smiled and surveyed the perimeter of the room. He set his bag of pillows down in front of him.

“You’re here alone?” 

“Yes’m.” Jean looked down at his pillows, then back at Armin’s face. “Connie went grocery shopping.”

Eren laughed and leaned on the arm of the couch. “ _Connie_  went grocery shopping?”

“By that I mean he went to go restock our ramen supply." 

Eren grinned. “Sounds more like him.”

The guy in question, Connie Springer, was their third roommate and also Jean’s best friend.

Armin always thought  _he_  was short for his age – being the smallest in his graduating class and dwarfed next to Eren – but when he met Connie, he was stunned.

It was obvious why he was close to Jean though; they were both _ridiculously_ dorky, in the most endearing way. That, and he was really nice. Something told Armin he was the one that kept Jean in check most of the time.

The blond ran a hand through his hair and joined Eren on the couch. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He nudged him lightly with his thigh.

“Are you kicking me out?” Eren feigned a sob, his legs kicking up on the coffee table. “I’m hurt.”

Jean scowled at him. “This isn’t your house, Jaeger.”

“It’s not yours either,  _Kirschstein_.” Eren chuckled matter-of-factly. “It’s the landlord’s.”

“Aunt Carla said she wanted you back before three.” The softness left Armin’s voice and he looked at his friend sternly. “You _do_ remember that, right?”

“Mommy setting a curfew for you now?” Jean walked back to his easel and picked up his pallet to check if any paints had dried out.

“Fuck off, you bastard,” Eren hissed. “There are relatives over and she wants me there.”

Armin hoisted him by the arm and they stood together. “ _Go home_ , Eren.” He walked behind him and lightly pushed him towards the door. “I don’t want your mom flipping out at you.”

Eren turned to him and sighed beneath his words. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave. But if Jean does anything shady, call me. I’ll be over like _that_.” He snapped his fingers on the last word to emphasize just how serious he was.

“Everything will be fine. Promise.” Armin smiled reassuringly at his friend. His eyelids fell when Eren began mussing his hair, then he lightly kissed his temple.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay?” The blond’s eyes opened again after a pause.

“Sure thing, Armin.” Eren poked the tip of his nose, not bothering to say anything to Jean as he left the apartment.

Once they were alone, Jean sighed dramatically and returned his attention to his easel.

“Good fuckin’ riddance.”

Armin only smiled at that. He knew Jean and Eren thought fondly of each other despite the constant verbal abuse. It was made clear when he looked at the pinboard of Polaroids above the TV.

At the center was a photo of Jean, Connie and Eren that he presumed was taken at their high school graduation. Eren was in the middle and Jean and Connie both had their arms draped over him. All three had wide smiles painted over their lips.

Armin thought it was  _adorable_ , but it did evoke sadness. He’d graduated a year early so he never got to experience anything like that; all he’d gotten was his diploma in the mail and a congratulatory letter from the principal.

Armin sighed at the memory. It was in the past, so there wasn’t a need to dwell on it. He paced back from the door and crossed the room to stand a short ways away from Jean.

“What are you painting?”

The tall youth smiled, though his eyes remained on his work. “My parents’ anniversary is coming up. They spent their honeymoon in Venice so… I’m painting a Venetian cityscape.” he told him. “Y’know how there are those canals running between the buildings there? The hotel they stayed at was like that. I’m trying to recreate it for them.”

Armin craned to see the painting and was  _impressed._ Jean’s artistic talent was far beyond his expectations. There was so much detail, and the portion of it that was painted was so  _vibrant_. For that moment, Armin couldn’t take his eyes away. He admired it with a silent smile.

“Also,” he continued, “peonies are my mom’s favorite flower so, in front of one of the buildings, there’s a pot of those. See?”

He pointed to the little flower pot with the tip of an elongated finger. Armin’s eye followed.

“Jean, this is  _amazing_ ,” the blond commended excitedly. “You’re so talented! And this gift… it’s so thoughtful! Your parents will love it for sure.”

Jean wordlessly eyed the piece. "You think?"

"Yes, I think," Armin said, nodding earnestly. 

Jean snapped his pallet shut and dropped his paintbrush into a cup of water. 

“Thanks, Armin. It really means a lot to hear that.” His tone was bashful as he untied his smock and pulled it off his body. "You really have no idea.”

The blond’s smile grew a fraction. “You’re very welcome, Jean.”

The taller boy scanned over Armin’s appearance for a second, then met blue eyes.

“So, uh… hey, I made some iced tea earlier. Do you want some? I need another opinion on the taste and Con’s not here.”

The offer made Armin nod with sudden fervor. After coffee, iced tea was his favorite beverage. He didn’t think there was a time when he  _wasn’t_ in the mood to drink it.

“I’d  _love_  to have some.” He tucked some hair behind a pierced ear. “Iced tea is, like, one of my favorite thing to drink ever.”

Jean peered down at him, chuckling. “Well damn, Armin. Now your opinion’s gonna be biased.” He walked past him into the kitchen. Armin instinctively trailed after him.

“I promise it won’t be!” he said while plopping onto a stool at the island counter.

When Jean turned to him, Armin’s eyes held _unwavering_ intensity. The idea of  _not_  having the tea wasn’t something he was willing to accept.

Jean chuckle grew into broad laughter. “Shit… don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t gonna deprive you.” The assurance came gently. Armin observed him approach the fridge and produce a plastic pitcher when he opened the door.

The tall boy had a tiny smile on his lips whilst pouring the darkened liquid into a glass he’d acquired from the cupboard.

“Here you are, my good sir.” Jean slid the tea over to him.

“Thank you.” Armin smiled and lifted the cup to his mouth. As he sipped it, he let his mind wander, and found himself thinking of Eren’s actions before he left.

He knew his friend had a tendency to be overprotective, so the wariness wasn’t unlike him. Armin wondered if it was warranted, though. Something told him he’d get along living with Jean and Connie just fine, and he was an excellent judge of character.

But he knew there was something that could pose a problem if he let it. Jean was the  _hottest guy_  he’d seen personally in a while. That was, to say the least, unnerving.

Armin would just have to be grateful repression was one of his greatest talents. It was unfortunate, but there was no way someone so _filthy_ was deserving of anyone.

Armin stared into his glass, hoping his features remained composed despite where his mind had gone.

The blond took another sip of tea to calm himself, suddenly remembering why he was drinking it in the first place.

“This tea is delicious, Jean,” the boy complimented. He sent him a smile when he looked up. “It’s not too sweet or too bitter. It’s just right.”

At that, Jean looked something akin to a dog who’d just been told they did something right and received a treat for it.

“Yeah?” He grinned dopily. “I’m glad you think so.”

 _‘He’s cute.’_ It was becoming apparent that Armin wasn’t doing as well at controlling his thoughts as he’d like, but saying those things within the protection of his mind... That was okay. That _had_ to be okay.

 _‘I’m completely allowed to think something harmless like that.’_ The blond rested his cheek on his fist and sighed to himself.

Jean seemed oblivious to his mental plight, which was good. He smiled at him and poured a glass of tea for himself.

“So hey, after this, would’dja like some help unpacking?” Jean asked. “Pretty sure I’ve got an empty storage bin that’s perfect for under-the-bed space somewhere around here...” He lifted his tea up to his lips. “You can use if you like.”

Armin was prepared to deny the help even though he knew he needed it, but he made himself stop.

The honesty of Jean’s smile was a little unsettling, as was how _fixated_ the blond suddenly became on watching the bob of his Adam’s apple whilst he swallowed his tea.

 _‘I really need to chill. I’m not some rabid animal...’_ Armin tore his eyes away. He remembered reading somewhere that victims of… _what he went through_ often acted out in terms of seeking sexual partners. Armin may not have been doing something as extreme as that, but this _effect_ Jean was having on him at such an early stage was definitely worrisome.

“Yeah, sure thing,” he said despite the minor inner turmoil. Armin put on his most _convincing_ smile and downed the remainder of his iced tea.

Jean beamed. “Awesome!” He too finished off his tea and carried both their glasses to rinse in the sink.

He was placing them in the dishwasher when Armin moved to grab his belongings from the living room, then together they exited the space and made for Armin’s bedroom at the very front of the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Make sure to leave your thoughts on this pilot chapter in the comments. Something to note: I’ve outlined the new and improved Circle’s End and it will now be cut into two parts. The first, and most meaty part of the plot will consist of (I think) 30 chapters. The second won't be that long, of course, but idk yet. It’s not really a sequel, just a continuation of the plot that was too heavy to fit in the first part.
> 
> So, there’s your heads up. Look like you guys are stuck with me. :)


	2. Harmony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about to be long. Idk whether to apologize for that or not, lol. I feel like this curse I have of writing too much is something that will persist throughout the fanfic. So, sorry in advance. Or not?? Idk.

**SATURDAY, JUNE 17 TH: 8:32PM**

Armin approached the stubby, presumably Korean man behind the counter. He looked incredibly bored and only broke away from his book when he noticed his presence and heard the clear of his throat.

Armin smiled cordially, stealing a peek to his unlocked phone screen to check his brief message exchange with Jean.

 

**[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**

_We r under the name Sasha._

_Third room on the left._

**[iMessage to Jean Kirschstein]**

_Kk. Me and Eren are coming in now!_

 

“Good evening, sir.” Armin leaned slightly forward. “I’m… with the group under the name Sasha Braus?”

A few paces behind him, Eren was involved in what appeared to be a pretty intense phone call with his father. He was ranting about how Grisha apparently would be working through dinner that night.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Eren and his father never had the best relationship, but it didn’t quiet Armin’s concern. He inhaled and did his best to put it out of his mind for the moment, though.

The man waved his hand. Armin’s smile didn’t falter; he retained his polite demeanor while regarding him.

“Yeah, Sasha. On the left.” His accent was thickly-wound in his speech. “It’s the first room with a closed door.”

“Okay, thank you.” Armin briefly carried his eyes to Eren, then looked back to the Korean man. “He’s with me also.”

But he’d already returned his attention to his book. A dismissive nod and a wave were the responses to Armin’s statement.

The blond breathed out and approached Eren’s side again. He was ending the call and pocketing his phone when Armin touched his arm.

“Is everything okay?”

The green-eyed boy heaved a sigh. “Just Dad up to his usual shit. Nothing new.” He shrugged, then looked down at Armin with the faintest of smiles.

 “You ready?”

Armin opted to wrap both his arms around Eren’s so he could bolster up and nudge his nose to his cheek.

“If you’re sure. Jean says it’s the third room on the left.”

“C’mon then.” Eren nodded. “I could use the distraction right now.”

 - - -

The group’s private room at the _noraebang_ was spacious. There was, of course, a karaoke machine against the left wall with a television mounted above it.

An L-shaped couch was a few feet away, with pillows placed gracelessly along the cushions. High tables margined the wall directly across from the entrance, and on the right side, there was a door that Armin presumed led to the main part of the bar.

He took in his surroundings silently. Armin was feeling uneasy about meeting Eren’s friends, but he was sure to mask that with an amiable smile.

He watched a brunette in a cropped band tee and denim shorts scamper over to the doorway where they stood.

“Took you guys long enough!” she exclaimed, fixing the both of them with a friendly smile. Armin leaned closer to Eren’s side.

“Sorry, Sash. Had to take Brutus for a walk before we left.”

Brutus was Eren’s German Shepherd puppy. He’d gotten him a few months ago and the little dog was absolutely  _adored_  by everyone that came into contact with him. Except for Jean Kirschstein. Armin heard some pretty funny tales about how much Brutus disliked Jean and tried to terrorize him every chance he got. In that way the puppy was much like his owner.

“No biggie.” The girl waved off his apology as her eyes settled on Armin.

“Ah! You must be  _the_  Armin. I’ve heard nothing but nice things! Hello!”

“Hi, Sasha.” Armin waved with small, pale fingers.

Sasha Braus was the girl Connie had been dating all throughout high school, as far as he knew. He’d said he intended on marrying her after college. Armin thought that was  _incredibly sweet_.

She was also Mikasa’s closest female friend and had been like a sister to Jean since they were in diapers.

“Ohhh, you know my name!” Sasha clapped her hands together and beamed.

“ _Of course_ he does.” From the couch, Jean snorted and leaned back against a throw pillow. Armin watched the smirk on his face as it widened.

“You’d think Connie would  _shut up_  about you after four years, but no.”

Sasha stuck her tongue out at Jean. Connie, who was sat beside him, lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

“She’s the most perfect person on the planet.” He said it so simply it was as if it was to be accepted as common knowledge. Armin couldn’t help but smile at the exchange.

Eren joined him in walking to the couch. When they plopped down, Jean immediately looked at Armin’s face, then to the style he had done with his hair that day.

 He’d pulled his fringe into a braid, though it was hardly as neat or elaborate as when Mikasa used to do it in their younger years.

“Hey, Armin.” Jean greeted him with a nod. “That’s a cute braid.”

Armin reached up to touch it and blinked. A hint of rosiness dusted onto his cheeks at his compliment.

“Oh… thanks.”

Jean’s smile seemed exclusively for him, which made his chest clench slightly. He sunk his teeth into his lip and glanced away as inconspicuously as possible.

Connie was practically  _cheesing_ as he reached out to clap a hand on Eren’s shoulder. “Thank God you’re here, man. I wanna get a hold of the machine before the girls hog it all night. We don’t need a repeat of last time.” 

“I doubt that’ll happen since we’re missing Mikasa,” Eren reminded. He leaned back on the couch. “Are we expecting anyone else? Annie? Bertl?”

“Annie doesn’t go anywhere Mikasa doesn’t when it comes to hanging out with us,” said Sasha with a huff. She was using the remote to flip through the list of songs on the TV screen.  

“Yeah, and we should count our blessings. That chick is fuckin’  _scary_.” Jean typed something into his Apple watch. “And honestly, since Reiner moved away I wouldn’t count on Bertholdt making an appearance.” He shrugged. “And that’s fine by me.”

“Why don’t you like him? Bertl’s a pretty cool guy.” Connie raised his brow.

“I dunno. He just… kind of annoys me with that reserved and shy bullshit.” Jean grumbled under his breath. Armin considered the thought.

‘S _o, Jean doesn’t like shy people?’_  Armin wouldn’t identify himself as  _shy_ , per se, but he was reserved. “Selectively social” was what Eren had called it once.

“And it seems like an act, doesn’t it?” Jean crossed his arms over his chest. “I bet he’s up to something.”

Eren snorted. “Dude, you’re reading too much into it.”

 

The door opened again and Armin glanced up.

A petite blond girl had entered the room. In her hands was a jumbo platter of what he was sure were fried dumplings.

“I come bearing snacks!” she announced in a bubbly voice.

“Oh, fuck yes.” Eren let out an over-dramatized sigh as he stood up. “All I had today was a peanut butter and jelly. I’m  _starved_.”

He approached the female and lifted the platter from her grasp, walking it over to the couch and placing it on the table in front of them.

 _‘This must be who Eren and Jean were referring to.’_ The girl couldn’t have been over five feet tall (if even that) and had a surprisingly defined body for someone of such a stature.

Her eyes were a large, azure blue, just like Armin’s. Her hair fell straight over her shoulders and she wore a gold “K” pendant around her neck. She was pretty cute if he was being completely honest.

“Oh, hello there,” she greeted Armin immediately, which was nice.  He hadn’t felt the least bit awkward around Eren’s friends the entire evening. They were all so outwardly kind – it was refreshingly  _unexpected._

“Hi!” Armin waved at her. “I’m Armin.”

“I know. You’re Eren and Mikasa’s friend from Shiganshina.” She mirrored his smile. “I’m Krista Reiss. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jean scooted closer to the blond beside him. “See? We weren’t bullshitting when we said y’all look alike.”

“Hey, Kris!” Sasha called into her microphone, beckoning her over with her hand. “You wanna sing with me? I wanna get this night started already.”

“Yes, of course!” Krista scampered up to stand beside Sasha at the karaoke machine. She picked up the second microphone and flipped the power on.

“Mikasa’s still at that dance camp?”

“Sadly yes.” Sasha frowned. “It sucks. We could’ve done The Pussycat Dolls again.” She turned back to the list of songs. “I miss her like mad.”

 _‘You’re not the only one.’_ The rueful thought wouldn’t leave his mind.Armin watched Eren pluck a dumpling from the platter. 

“Have one, ‘Min. They’re fucking delicious,” he said. “And you need to eat.”

Armin took a dumpling for himself mostly to appease the brunet. He didn’t plan on eating much though; Jean made spaghetti as a late lunch and Armin found that his stomach was gradually shrinking as he got older. It was quite strange, honestly.

He bit into the dumpling just as a song he  _definitely_  recognized (and had saved to his music library) started to play from the front of the room.

He looked up at the cheesy animation of a woman dancing beneath a disco ball and watched Krista and Sasha step forward. Their microphones were ready at their lips.

“Neither of you are virgins,” Jean called. Sasha shook her balled fist at him.

“The song is called ‘Like a Virgin’, not ‘ _I’m_ a Virgin’, stupid.”

Armin couldn’t keep in a quiet laugh. They began to sing alongside one another, and he wasn’t too surprised at the likeness Krista’s voice held to the actual Madonna.

He found himself bobbing his head and syncing his lips to the familiar tune.

_“I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it through! Didn’t know how lost I was until I found you._

_I was beat, incomplete. I was had, I was sad and blue, but you made me feel – oh you made me feel shiny and new!”_

Connie had his iPhone 7 turned sideways to record them. It seemed the whole room had taken to jamming along to their performance. He felt Eren’s’ arm slide around his shoulder while he sang loudly against his ear.

_“Like a virgin, touched for the very first time! Like a virgin, when your heart beats next to mine!”_

It was a shame Mikasa wasn’t there to join in on the fun.

\- - -

“I’m singing next,” Jean declared as he wiggled past Connie to stand up.

A few songs, and some drinks later, and the night was progressing well. Armin enjoyed singing along with everyone during each performance, but he never took the initiative to go up himself.

Eren had suggested it a few times, but the blond refused. He threw in some backup vocals when Jean and Eren did their rendition of “Uptown Funk” though.

Admittedly, Armin  _was_  having an urge to go up. He was still wary of being in front of a crowd of people he didn’t know, though. ‘ _Maybe someday.’_  The boy sat back and took the final dumpling off the platter.

“Hello friends.” Jean seized a microphone and spoke into it. “Jean Kirschy here to lull you all into oblivion with my radical chords!”

Sasha made a ‘pfft’ sound with her lips and laughed. “Jean, you’re so embarrassing. Please.”

 She dug her hand into the hobo bag at her feet and tugged out a half-eaten Snickers bar.

Armin hadn’t realized he’d been laughing along until he heard a small gasp.

“Yo, Armin!” Jean’s hazel eyes narrowed at him in a playful manner. “You laughin’ at me?”

The blond giggled into his hand. “I’m sorry!”

Somehow, Jean looking at him in that way was all it took for Armin to make a rather  _bold_  – and abrupt – decision.

He squished passed Eren and popped up like bread in a toaster.

“Let me… sing with you.” Armin joined the taller boy at the machine, watching him blink with a wide, confused gaze.

“Uh… sure, okay.” Jean nodded after a moment. “What, you mean like a duet?”

“Isn’t that what it’s called when two people sing together?” Armin bit softly on his tongue. He tried not flush out of the sheer _embarrassment_ of the situation. “I’m soprano, don’t worry.”

 _“About time.”_  Eren clapped his hands together excitedly. “But are you sure you wanna sing with  _this_  douche, Armin?”

Jean hissed. “Will you shut up, Jaeger? There’s a reason he’s up here with  _me_  and not you.”

“Just don’t cry when he outshines your shit singing,” Eren smirked. “On second thought, I won’t hold it against you. I’ll record it and put it on Instagram.”

“You’re gonna be sporting a black eye for the rest of the night if you don’t can it,” Jean growled at him. When he looked to Armin, his expression was softer.

“You can choose the song.”

Armin nodded with a small chuckle and grabbed the remote. He found his way to the main directory of songs and pressed “duets”, interest roused by the extensive list of songs from the _High School Musical_ franchise.

Fanatic that he was, it was difficult to thwart his excitement.

“High School Musical?  _Really?_ ” Jean peeked over his shoulder.

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen them.”

“No I have but…” He rubbed his nape sheepishly. “God, my younger sister made me watch HSM with her so much. The songs are kind of engraved in my mind.” He chuckled and took the remote from Armin’s hand and scrolled to the bottom, highlighting “Just Wanna Be With You”.

“If we’re gonna do this, it’s gotta be this song. It’s my favorite.”

“Deal.” Armin turned to face their audience. He anticipated he’d be a lot more nervous than he actually was.

Armin tapped the microphone a few times to test the volume and cued Jean to start the song.

He heard an amused snigger from the crowd and zeroed his eyes on Eren.

Jean stuck up his middle finger, then closed his eyes as he took a step closer to Armin.

 

_“I got a lot of things I have to do.  All these distractions, our future’s coming soon.”_

 

Armin couldn’t help the toothy smile that took form when he heard Jean’s singing. He could really get a feel for it now that they were doing a slower-paced song, and honestly, he sounded fine. Definitely not the embarrassment Eren kept waxing lyrical about.

Armin held his mic with both hands and prepared for the harmony.

 

_“We’re being pulled a hundred different directions, but whatever happens, I know I’ve got you._

_You’re on my mind, you’re in my heart, doesn’t matter where we are. We’ll be alright, even is we’re miles apart.”_

When the chorus hit, Armin noticed Jean’s body moving along with the music. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned with doing things that others – namely Armin – might consider _embarrassing_. It made Armin feel less tense.

He acted a bit boldly and reached for his hand.

As it was met with warmth enveloping his palm, a blush stained his cheeks.

 

_“You know how life can be, it changes overnight. It’s sunny then raining, but it’s alright._

_A friend like you always makes it easy. I know that you get me every time._

_Through every up, through every down, you know I’ll always be around._

_We’ll be alright even if we’re miles apart!”_

When Jean let go of his hand and spun, he’d nearly knocked himself into the speakers. Armin laughed into the verse and glanced at their audience.

Krista was mouthing the lyrics and bobbing her head. Even _Eren_ seemed entertained.

Jean crooked his finger at Armin to beckon him, and the boy drew closer without much thought. Their hands joined again.

 

_“All I wanna do is be with you, be with you!_

_There’s nothing we can’t do. Just wanna be with you, only you._

_No matter where life takes us, nothing can break us apart._

_You know it’s true._

_I just wanna be with you._

 

And then the song wound down. Armin was yanked flush against Jean’s chest, and he looked up at him, both boys filled with  _mirth_  as the last lyric was shared in a breath.

_“I just wanna be with you.”_

“Y’all are so fucking  _gay_ ” was Eren’s contribution when the song ended.

\- - -

**SUNDAY, JUNE 25 th: 8:32AM**

It was difficult not to let his eyelids droop on that appallingly _early_  Sunday morning, but Armin managed. Somehow.

He wasn’t exhausted justbecause of the time of day. He didn’t sleep all that well the previous night. Armin had been plagued by some pretty persistent nightmares, which was nothing new, but it still sucked when he was kept up for an  _indefinite_  amount of time trying to fight off the bad dreams.

Hours later, Armin was fighting a different battle. The battle to keep his eyes open and not just snooze in his seat.

Eren went off to get him coffee and a macadamia nut cookie from _Au Bon Pain._

More food was suggested but Armin never had an appetite in the morning, so it couldn’t be helped.

They were in the terminal of Central Station, waiting for Mikasa’s train to come in.

The arrival was scheduled for 8:45. Armin was excited despite the prevalent  _bur_ n in his eyes from lack of sleep.

He was keeping himself occupied by reading a book on his Kindle app.

 

“That line was  _years_  long for no reason,” Eren groused as he sat next to him.

He handed Armin his coffee and the little paper bag that held the cookie. Armin saw that he’d purchased a bagel sandwich for himself.

“Well, It _is_ morning.” Armin pressed the heel of his palm to his eye. “Thank you. I was in dire need of caffeine.”

Eren chuckled. “I know how you get when you don’t have your fix.”

Armin grinned faintly. “But I’m sleep-deprived too so I’d be  _extra_ grouchy. You dodged a bullet there.”

He sipped his drink, thinking that it was nice they’d passed that “how do you like your coffee?” phase of their friendship.

“Jean keeping you up with his loud ass?” Eren asked with an already-forming scowl.

Armin shook his head. “No, that isn’t what happened at all.”

He was quick to defend Jean since  _he’d_  been the one that sat up with him watching late-night cartoons until Armin was relaxed enough to sleep.

Honestly, he was turning out to be quite the considerate guy, at least when it came to Armin. It wasn’t at all helping his pact to  _not_ develop any sort of feelings for him.

Armin hoped nothing uncomfortable transpired during their plans to watch the new Game of Thrones episode together later that Sunday.

Armin simply needed to remember they barely knew each other and he could easily show a side of himself that would make him run straight in the opposite direction. Most people did, after all.

He saw his friend readying to inquire further when a woman buzzed over the loudspeaker to announce the arrival of a train coming in from Yalkell.

Armin’s entire demeanor perked up.

“She’s here!”

Eren smiled and nodded. They both turned to the walkway where the passengers exit their designated trains.

Armin was already on his feet when people started pouring out. Mikasa stepped out and her eyes began searching instantly.

“Mikasa!” Armin didn’t even think to care that they were in public.

When her gaze fell on them she smiled warmly, swiftly making her way over with her purple suitcase rolling behind her.

The moment she was within arm’s length, Amin practically _leaped_ at her.

“It’s so, so good to see you!”

He embraced her tightly, his head nestled in her shoulder.

Her scent was nostalgic... It was that familiar aroma of Marc Jacobs. His mind’s eye envisioned a younger version of himself standing next to Eren in the cosmetic department of Bloomingdale’s.

He remembered that day all too well; Eren had waited until the last possible second to get Mikasa a gift for her fifteenth birthday. Armin suggested perfume and they went with it. He didn’t expect her to still wear it, but then Mikasa was a bit of a  _hoarder_  when it came to things given to her by people she cared for.

“It’s been  _too_  long, Armin.” Mikasa petted his back gently. “Two years and sixth months… I never want to be separated like that again.”

Her eyes held a fondness that she kept reserved for Armin and Eren only. The blond observed it when he drew back slightly so he could look at her.

“We won’t be,” he assured gently.

Eren greeted his adoptive sister with a smile. “Hey, Miki. How was your trip?”

Mikasa’s reluctance was visible when she pulled back from Armin. Her eyes remained on him for a few moments before she looked to Eren.

“I enjoyed myself.” The raven tucked some hair behind her ear. “We should sit and catch up. It’s been too long since the three of us have been together like this.”

It was true. The last time had been when the Jaegers visited for Armin’s grandfather’s funeral months back, though Armin hadn’t been in the best place at that time.

It had been difficult to focus his attention on his friends when he was in such a  _severe_  state of grief. He didn’t like to think about it.

“You’re right,” Armin agreed, linking his arm with Mikasa’s. “Do you think maybe we can do it outside, though? The AC is blasting and I’m cold.” He puffed out his cheeks and pouted slightly.

Eren laughed at his friend’s words. “When are you  _not_  cold, ‘Min?”

\- - -

**SUNDAY, JUNE 25 TH: 9:24AM**

There was an outdoor sitting area on the topmost floor of the building and even as the sun had yet to reach its peak in the sky, it was still fairly warm.

The weather app told Armin it was 81 degrees Fahrenheit – the perfect weather to sit out with his two childhood friends and just…  _talk_. It’d been too long since they could do that.

Armin had finished his cookie on the way up, but he still had his coffee. He sipped his warm beverage and flicked his eyes to Mikasa. The three of them sat at a rounded outdoor-table.

“So, tell me, Mikasa. What’s been new with you?”

“Mm…” The raven pursed her lips. “Well, I found my uncle again.”

She reached her hands to Armin’s hair. He could very clearly feel French tips as she began to gently work and pull through the tresses. Armin wouldn’t question what she was doing; it felt nice and he knew she wouldn’t do a style he’d be ashamed to wear in public.

Armin was so lost in the palliative sensation that he hadn’t realized the weight of what she’d said until he thought about it again.

“What? Your  _uncle_?”

He looked up at her but was careful not to move too much. Mikasa had her signature determined look on her face as she wove the locks together.

“When I first moved to Trost, I tried – and failed – to track down biological family, as you know.” She blinked her eyes at him. “I didn’t want to be disappointed again so I waited some years before a second attempt. This this time, I got lucky.”

“That’s awesome!” Armin chimed. He was genuinely happy to hear it.

“So what’s he like?”

“Uncle Kenny’s great.” Mikasa reached into her purse and dug around for a moment before resurfacing with a flowery hair barrette.

“His son, though—”

“His son _Levi_ ,” Eren clarified readily, “is fuckin’ amazing.”

Mikasa 'tsk-ed under her breath. “Eren has an odd fascination with my cousin and I don’t understand why. The guy’s about as tall as my knee.”

Mikasa clasped the accessory into Armin’s hair, then patted his shoulder to tell him she’d finished.

Armin moved to sit upright and reached up to feel the braid, giggling.

“He can’t be that short.”

“He’s not. She’s just exaggerating.” Eren rolled his eyes at his sister’s comment. “He’s a filthy rich entrepreneur. He owns nightclubs.”

“ _Strip clubs_.” Mikasa held up her finger to correct him. “How dignified is that?”

“If he’s making money, does it matter?” Eren retorted, finishing what remained of his bagel.

Armin grabbed his phone to examine the braid in the frontal view of his camera.  _It was gorgeous_. Mikasa had curved it along the left side of his head and put the daisy barrette in the very front. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he looked at his reelection.

“How do I look?”

“You look beautiful.” Eren’s eyes fixed on his best friend, nodding towards Armin’s phone.

“You should take a pic and put it on Instagram.”

Armin waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. “Later maybe.”

He lifted his coffee and sipped on it, eyes flickering to the side.

Eren said nothing in reply. He let out the most  _conspicuous_  snicker and grabbed for his Galaxy, holding it at eye-level and snapping a candid shot of Armin when he happened to be gazing off at something on the opposite side of the terrace.

“Eren, what the hell?” Armin’s eyes narrowed when he became aware of what had happened. “You know I don’t like when you—”

“You look super hot in this angle.” Eren grinned and showed the phone to his sister. “Doesn’t he look hot, Miki?”

Mikasa thoughtfully examined the photo.

“It looks really aesthetic.”

Armin huffed in mild annoyance. He peeked over Mikasa’s shoulder to see the picture for himself, lips pursing when he saw that his friends’ comments hadn’t strayed too far from the truth.

He did look nice – the braid Mikasa had done only augmented the appeal of the photo. That, and natural light had always been his friend.

“Send it to the group thread?” Armin blinked azure eyes up to Eren’s face.

His friend started to thumb over his phone screen, tongue running across his bottom lip. He got that same  _determined_  look that Mikasa wore quite often on his face, which made Armin nervous.

“Okay, gimme a sec…”

“What are you doing?” The blond clocked his brow upward.

“My feed needs to be graced with a morning dose of your beauty,” Eren said simply, a grin pressing into his features whilst he continued to type into his phone. Armin sucked in more of his coffee and watched him. He felt the tips of his ears redden.

“Eren…” The blond lifted his own phone off the table and unlocked It, loading up the Instagram app to check the damage.

He immediately saw that the first post on his feed was the picture of him with the braid and the flower barrette in his hair. The caption beneath read:  _“isn’t my bestie cute? @neptunite1103”_  with several different types of heart emojis tacked onto it.

Armin drew some air into his lungs. It was ridiculous to feel embarrassed, wasn’t it? Eren hadn’t wronged him – he’d just posted a candid picture of Armin when he happened to not be looking. It wasn’t a  _horrible_  thing to do. He needed to calm down and stop overthinking.

“Damn, that was quick!”

“What?” Armin’s eyes widened immediately.

“Jean liked and commented already,” Eren smirked at the blond when he noticed the change in his face. Mikasa leaned over to look at her brother’s phone and see for herself.

“He says you should wear your hair like this more often.” She raised an inquisitive, dark brow. “You two…. are friendly?”

Eren snorted. “Still not sure why, but Armin decided to room with him.” His attention was still partly on his phone. “So yeah, I guess you could say they’re  _super friendly_.”

“You haven’t been here a month and you already found a roommate.” Mikasa hummed and toyed with the amethyst birthstone on her middle finger. “I swear, opportunities just land in your lap sometimes, Armin. I’m kind of surprised it’s Jean though.”

Armin folded his arms atop the table. “I found  _two_  roommates, actually. I’m renting a place with Jean and Connie.” He blinked.

“And what’s wrong with Jean?” He’d admit Eren’s deductions of Jean could be a bit  _irrational_  at times, but if Mikasa was also showing this aversion, he guessed he should at least listen.

“Nothing in particular, just…” Mikasa lifted her eyes to look at him. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of person you’d get along with.” Her arm extended to brush a lock of his hair behind his ear. Armin smiled at the contact.

“He and Connie both have been nothing but kind to me since I moved in,” Armin told her, a soft sigh following his words. “It hasn’t even been two weeks yet but I think I made the right decision.”

“Well I trust your judgment,” Mikasa said. Her eyes fell on Eren and she patted the brunet’s arm.

“Though I’m positive Eren will always have something negative to say about him.”

Eren shrugged at that. “He’s a piece of shit with a face that happens to resemble a horse. Not my fault.” He crossed his arms and huffed innocently as if he wasn’t in the wrong at all.

Armin shook his head and laughed quietly. With his touch ID, he unlocked his phone and resumed his Instagram-browsing.

He scrolled his feed until he got to Eren’s post from a little while ago, taking in Jean’s comment.

_kiss_me_kirsch: Armin should def wear his hair like this more often._

Armin smiled. There was momentary hesitance before he typed a response.

_neptunite1103: Thank Mikasa! She’s the one who did it. ^-^_

Jean tagged Mikasa’s username and followed with a ‘thumb’s up’ emoji. Armin raised his eyes to Eren. The other boy was wearing that same, _knowing_ look he’d given him the day he met Jean.

“You two done?”

Armin shot him an innocent smile, but hedid feel kind of embarrassed that he’d pointed it out.

Armin opted out of speaking and instead took a peek at Jean’s profile.

He tapped his username and was brought to the standard Instagram profile page. 9,904 followers. ‘ _What?’_  How could someone even  _know_  that many people? There were over 600 posts, which was honestly not too surprising. Jean seemed like the type to chronic his entire life on social media.

His latest post was a picture of him, Connie and Sasha that definitely looked like it was taken with a selfie stick.  _Consterr_  and  _mother_of_potatoes_  were both tagged in it. It had over 30 likes.

 _‘Jeez.’_ Clearly Jean was a pretty popular guy.

Armin located the posts from the  _noraebang_  and smiled when he spied the photo he recognized  _all too well._  

It was of him and Jean after they’d performed together. Armin had a closed-lip smile, while the boy beside him was cheesing  _broadly_ , his arm curved around the blond’s shoulders.

Armin touched his fingers to his temple when he recalled the incessant teasing from Eren at the apparent intimacy of the photo.

Armin was quick to argue that it was a completely  _platonic_ selfie taken between friends and nothing more.

After examining the photo for a bit more, Armin continued fingering through Jean’s Instagram. There were photos of his art, snaps of scenery and a seemingly  _endless_ multitude of selfies he’d taken either by himself or with others – for several different occasions.

Armin envied that he appeared to be _so_ popular, and it was odd that he found no traces of anyone resembling a significant other. Surely a guy like Jean would be dating someone, right?

Armin knew it wasn’t a good idea to ask, not when Eren was already so suspicious of something that was virtually nonexistent. Perhaps, someday, he’d find some clever way to ease it into a conversation, but in that moment Armin decided he’d much rather focus on hanging out with his friends.

He sat his phone aside and returned his attention to Eren and Mikasa, seamlessly joining in on the debate over where they would be eating breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eren has been in like, basically every scene in this fanfic so far. What is up with that? I promise this isn’t secretly an Eremin, guys. They’re just attached at the hip.


	3. Late Night Truths

**TUESDAY, JUNE 27 TH: 8:39PM**

Armin was quite content with this new pace of things. It seemed that, finally, his life was beginning to fall into place. He had Eren and Mikasa at a close proximity once again and soon,  he would be starting at his _dream school,_ majoring in something he was boundlessly passionate about.

He had two new roommates who were both pretty easy to live with. Aside from Jean’s boisterous nature, and the abrasiveness, he wasn’t as bad as Eren made him out to be. Though, it hadn’t even been a month yet. He still had _ample_ time to disprove Armin’s assumption.

Strangely, the more time he spent with Jean, the more similarities he shared with Eren started to arise.

The blond mulled over this as he walked alongside the brunet boy toward the escalator that led to the underground subway station.

The _Olive Garden_ they worked at happened to be a part of the food court in Vicheim Central Mall. It was located in a little suburb outside Trost where the lot of Eren and Mikasa’s friends grew up. They’d all gone to high school there, too. The group was _intimidatingly_ closeknit. Armin doubted they’d welcome an outsider into their circle. He shouldn’t get his hopes up.

The thought was slightly upsetting. But Armin had Eren and Mikasa, and they were _much more_ than enough.

 

 “—and he’s coming over for brunch tomorrow. Him and Mr. Ackerman both.” Eren’s voice was what brought him out of his reverie. Armin glanced over at the brunet and observed the furrow in his brow.

“I dunno if I should call him ‘Levi’ or… ‘Mister Levi’ or ‘sir’ or what.”

The blond folded his arms across his chest. He’d been only partly listening to Eren’s ranting, admittedly, but he tried not to let it be known.

“Well, how old is he? Do you think he’s old enough that you’d need to be respectful?”

Eren’s head tilted in consideration. “He’s twenty-nine. And I’m not sure. Miki just introduced him as ‘Levi’ when we met but… I don’t want him to think I’m some dumb teenager who doesn’t know how to show respect to his elders. Y’know?”

Armin chuckled a bit at Eren’s words. In an odd way, this side of him was cute.

“You clearly wanna make a good impression.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Eren got a tinge defensive, as if Armin was calling him out on something he hadn’t yet admitted to himself. “He’s my sister’s cousin. If her family’s important to her, they are to me too.”

Armin nodded. “I get it. But you know Eren, this would be a lot easier if you just _asked_ him what he’d like to be called.”

“I guess you’re right.” Eren shifted his eyes to the blond. “But don’t you think that’d be kind of weird?”

“You’ll never know until you ask.”

The bell-chime that indicated he had a new text sounded from his pocket. Armin could count the people that would even _think_ to text him on one hand, and the most likely candidate was currently beside him. So, needless to say, he was curious as to who it was.

Armin pulled out his iPhone 6 and saw that Jean’s contact name lit his lock screen with two consecutive texts. ‘ _Oh.’_ He scanned over them, then swiped the screen to open them up.

 

**[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**

_So con’s ordering two pizzas from papa johns.  
One’s gonna be Hawaiian. What toppings for the other one? _

 

Perhaps it was silly for Armin to feel so immensely _happy_ , but it gave him the illusion that he had friends. _Actual friends._ He wouldn’t deny that was something he’d always desired.

 

**[iMessage to Jean Kirschstein]**

_Definitely peperoni. I’ve been craving it.  
I have no picks for the other. Just no anchovies.  >.< _

 

**[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**

_Ewwwww, anchovies are an abomination._

 

**[iMessage to Jean Kirschstein]**

_I see you’re of sound mind._

**[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**

_Sometimes I am. ;)  
should we wait for u to come home?_

**[iMessage to Jean Kirschstein]**

_I’m leaving work rn so you don’t have to._

**[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**

_Gotcha._  
Ay not to rush u or anything but I haven’t eaten much today.    
#famished 

**[iMessage to Jean Kirschstein]**

_I’ve got some seaweed chips on my nightstand.  
Feel free to have some to hold you over. _

 

**[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**

_Miiiiiiiiiin  
U r an angel_

 

To that, Armin told him to _stop being so dramatic_ and was sure to tack an embarrassed emoji on the end, but Jean didn’t seem to care about that. He proceeded to spam the chat with angel emojis, and it only made Armin chew his lip to keep from giggling.

He knew he was probably being presumptuous again, but were they… _flirting_? The text thread could easily be read as a conversation between friends, but it could also be taken another way. Armin didn’t know how to interpret it. But, truthfully, he kind of hoped it was just a friendly exchange. He wasn’t willing to deal with something more at the moment.

He gave one final glance to the chat, then shook his head while biting a little harder on his lip.

_‘It’s not even that serious..’_

He wouldn’t reply. Armin put his phone away and looked up, hoping he appeared completely unaffected, but Eren was too busy eyeing something ahead of them to notice.

Armin followed his gaze with curiosity.

A strikingly tall, black-haired male was what greeted him. He was standing a little ways away and holding a cup of Haagen-Dazs ice cream. Armin took in his appearance as inconspicuously as he could. Green eyes, faintly tanned skin and a noticeably _elongated_ face. And even though it was summer, he was wearing a grey hoodie and jeans.

Eren tilted his head up in greeting. “Yo, Bertholdt!”

 _‘Bertholdt… where have I heard that name before?’_ Armin momentarily cast his eyes aside to think.

“Oh, hey, Eren.” The darker-haired male smiled slightly. He seemed discomforted by Eren’s loud tone of voice. “What’s up? You… working here now?”

He surveyed his attire. Both boys were dressed in black button-downs, ties and black slacks – the standard uniform of their workplace. There were name tags pinned into their right breasts.

“Yeah I do! At the _Olive Gardem_.” He pointed in the direction of the food court. Armin subconsciously moved closer to his side, glancing up when he felt a hand clap onto his shoulder.

“This is Armin. You know, my friend from out-of-town I told you about?”

“Oh, yes.” When the realization hit him, Bertholdt nodded. He turned pale green eyes down on the blond and smiled kindly. “Hello Armin. I’m Bertholdt Hoover.” He offered his hand.

Armin studied the difference in size in comparison to his own.

 _‘Jeez,’_ he thought, ‘ _he’s colossal…’_  

“Hi Bertholdt.” Armin shook the larger hand and smiled up at him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Touching him triggered a memory of Karaoke Night. He recalled Jean mentioning he didn’t like him – something about how he was apparently _too shy_. Armin had thought that was a ridiculous reason to dislike someone. He certainly wouldn’t allow his biases to taint his opinions of this guy.

“Bertl works in the tattoo parlor upstairs, you know,” Eren told him when his eyes moved back to Bertholdt.

 _That_ grabbed Armin’s interest. “Really now?” He certainly hadn’t pegged him for the type, but then, he knew nothing about him.

“That’s super cool!” he gushed. “Are you an actual tattoo artist?”

Bertholdt appeared to be sort of embarrassed as he spooned some of his ice cream into his mouth.

“N-No. I’m just doing secretary work until I get my license.” It seemed like he was straining himself to say just that. The blond could definitely sympathize.

“I’ve always wanted a tattoo…” He pursed his lips together ponderously. He _had_ always wanted a tattoo, but his grandfather was extremely conservative and would never allow it when he was alive. Besides that, Armin didn’t think he was connected enough to get around the requirement to be _of age_ first. He still had some months to go.

Bertholdt had donned a smile at his words. “Oh? Well, uh…  you should come by. It’s called ‘Zee’s Ink and Piercings’. Zee is for Zeke Marley, the owner.” Bertholdt was visibly excited to talk about his work. Armin’s smile, though it remained intact, had turned slightly rueful.

“Oh… it’ll have to wait a while.” He huffed out a soft breath. “I’m not eighteen just yet.”

He felt a gentle squeeze to his arm and looked over to meet Eren’s eyes. His friend clearly had just thought of something.

“Hey, ‘Min, you know what?” He grinned at the other boy. “We should totally get you tatted for your birthday!”

Armin’s eyes widened somewhat. Getting a tattoo had always seemed so far away in his mind – like driving a Range Rover or working at NASA. But now it seemed to be _completely_ within his grasp. Was it odd to feel a little fearful of that?

“It _would_ be a good way to celebrate becoming legal,” Armin agreed with a small smile and an exhale. “I’ve always wanted something celestial, though I’m not sure what it’d be…” He pushed at his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue.

“Well, you have some time to decide.” Bertholdt continued to eat his ice cream. “I’d advise you not to rush into it. It’ll be printed on your body forever, after all.”

Armin nodded. “Lucky for me my birthday isn’t until November.” He didn’t understand how Jean didn’t like him. As was everyone else he’d met since he moved here, Bertholdt was _nice_. His timid nature wasn’t at all off-putting from what Armin had seen. Though he _had_ only met him ten minutes ago. Armin need not be so quick when judging someone’s character.

He pulled out his phone to check the time, noting that it was just a few minutes shy of the nine o’clock hour. Armin had told Jean he’d be home promptly. He didn’t want them to dig _too_ much into the pizza before his arrival. And he didn’t want Jean to eat all of his seaweed chips – though that seemed far more probable.

The blond glanced back to Bertholdt and sent him a kind smile.

“Uh... I’m really sorry, but I promised my roommates I’d be home quickly tonight.” Armin briefly looked at Eren. “They want pizza and they won’t order until I get there.” That second bit may’ve been a lie, but Armin knew it would make the situation seem more urgent – and he was eager to get back to the apartment and hang out with them.

“I should probably get going soon.” He exhaled through his nose.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Bertholdt smiled slightly back at Armin, then moved his gaze to the green-eyed boy at his side. “It’s no big deal. We’ll definitely meet again.” He tossed his now-empty ice cream container in the trash bin a few feet over. “We _do_ work in the same building.”

“Yeah. You’re right about that.” Armin nodded his agreement. He gently scratched the side of his face with his finger. “I look forward to it. I’d like to hear more about tattoos and stuff. It seems… really interesting.”

For a moment, Bertholdt appeared to be pondering something, then he shook his head.

“Until next time then.” He stuck his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “It was nice seeing you both.”

Armin nodded again, keeping his expression polite and genial. He waved his hand in a delicate motion.

“Nice meeting you,” he said sweetly, while Eren tilted his neck up to the taller male.

“Seeya around, Bertl!”

Bertholdt turned on his heel after regrading them a final time and sauntered off in the opposite direction. _‘Strange.’_ The mall was set to close soon and most of the department store exits were sealed off, so where was he even going? Armin tilted his head in slight curiosity, though before he had a chance to properly mull over it, Eren spoke.

“Was what you said about pizza the truth or just a way to get Bertl to leave?” Eren eyed him playfully. “You hadn’t mentioned it before.”

“What are you saying? Of course it’s the truth.” Armin was a little offended that Eren thought he’d be so _conniving_ at a person he’d just met.

“And I didn’t think it was important to relay _every detail_ of my life to you at all times, Eren.”

The brunet looked a little ruffled. “You don’t. I was just teasing you, ‘Min. Relax.” He gently petted the boy’s shoulder and Armin huffed apologetically.

“M’sorry…” he muttered. “You know I get irritable when I’m hungry.” He stole another peek at his phone.

Eren smirked. “ _You know_ I know. Probably better than anyone else.”

When they reached the escalator, Armin retrieved his metro card from his wallet. In Shiganshina, he’d only ever traveled by way of his grandfather’s car. They didn’t even _have_ a subway system in that desolate mountain town, and even if they had, he doubted he’d be allowed to ride it. His grandfather was known for being overprotective, sheltering him from the things any _normal_ adolescent probably wouldn’t think twice about – like going out after sundown, or learning to drive. This new life in Trost was a welcomed change.

 

Armin stood beside Eren whilst he added funds to his metro card. When he’d moved from Shiganshina, Aunt Carla gifted Armin with one of his own that was already loaded with a hundred dollars. Travelling to and from work for two weeks had wiped out half of it already. Armin knew he’d get his first paycheck before it ran out completely, but that didn’t stop him from worrying about it.  

 

“You’re coming to brunch tomorrow, right?” Eren asked, his eyes still on the machine.

Armin cocked his eyebrow. “I didn’t know I was expected to.” He was genuinely confused by the question. “I thought this was just... a thing for your and Mikasa’s family?”

“Armin, you _are_ our family.” The taller youth turned to look at him when he’d finished. The smile he wore pulled a sigh from Armin’s lips.

“Miki wants you to come and so do I. I didn’t ask Mom and Dad but do you really think they’d care? You know you’re just seen as another one of their kids.” Eren poked his cheek as Armin evaded eye-contact.

He couldn’t disagree; the Jaegers had always been more his family than his actual relatives, and now they were the only people left that actually cared for him.

He remembered how, after his grandfather died, Aunt Carla stayed with him for those few months and helped him prepare for his move. And _they_ were the ones paying the mortgage on his childhood home.

His mother would never take that initiative, as far as he knew. Armin hadn’t even _seen her_ in more than a decade, and hadn’t the slightest clue of her whereabouts. He didn’t even know if she was _alive_ or not. And, as for his father, Armin was much better-off when he _didn’t_ think of him.

“Yeah, I know that,” Armin replied after a moment’s pause. He took the elastic tie off his wrist and pulled the top of his hair into a ponytail.

“I’ll come tomorrow. I really do want to meet Mikasa’s family. I just… didn’t know if I’d be completely welcome.”

Eren seemed exasperated. Armin wondered why. He felt his arm slide around his shoulders after they passed through the gates and walked onto the mezzanine. His eyes descended down.

“How many times must I say this? You are _always_ welcome, because you’re part of this family.” Armin complied when he pulled them both to sit on the bench. “You know you’re a brother to me, Armin.”

Armin nodded, the hint of a smile crossing his face. “I know. And you the same.” He gently patted the other boy’s knee. “I’m sorry. I’ve always been… stubborn. But I’m coming. Promise.”

When he glanced up to the old-fashioned LED screen, he saw that the next train was arriving in three minutes.

“Good,” Eren said cheerfully, “Brunch is at two tomorrow. I’d invite you to sleep over but I wouldn’t wanna disrupt your _pizza date_.” The sarcasm in his tone was detectable. Armin covered his mouth and laughed quietly.

“I appreciate that you’re being so understanding.”

\- - -

**TUESDAY, JUNE 27 TH: 10:03PM**

Armin had never tasted beer before, but he chose against saying that when Connie held one out to him. The blond took the can and snapped it open.

“Thanks, Connie.” He smiled appreciatively at his roommate. Connie smiled back at him and took one for himself. Armin watched discreetly as he sipped his beer so casually, and he tried to emulate his actions and do the same – hoping his face didn’t display how disgusting it was.

They’d pushed the couch back and set up their food on the coffee table, scattering some pillows about so there were cushions sit on.

“I didn’t peg you for someone who drinks, Armin.” Jean chuckled lowly. The remote was in his hand and he was browsing for something to watch on the TV.

“I don’t often but…I guess in the safety of my home I wouldn’t mind getting a teensy bit inebriated.” Armin sat his beer on the coffee table, making a mental note of which one was his before he went for a slice of pizza.

“So you’ve never been shitfaced drunk before?” Connie seemed genuinely _surprised_ by what Armin had said.

The blond folded his slice in half before he bit into it.

“No, never.”

“Damn.” Connie took another, longer swig of his beer. “Don’t you worry, Armin. Sticking with us will _definitely_ change that.”

Armin nibbled on his pizza. His cheeks puffed a little and he giggled softly. “If you say so. But I don’t know, I haven’t really acquired a taste for alcohol.” He glanced to the side. Jean was looking at him with a rather _stunned_ expression.

“What?”

“My sister eats her pizza the same way. I never understood why you’d need to fold it.” He gawked at him.

Armin giggled again at how incredibly _dramatic_ he was being.

“You get more pizza in one bite,” he informed, smiling. “It’s the more practical way to eat it, Jean.”

Jean snorted. He bit quite _audibly_ into his pizza, seemingly in an attempt to get under the boy’s skin.

“This is the only _proper_ way to eat pizza.”

Armin rolled his eyes and gently plucked him in the arm. Jean was unruffled by the action, clearly. He just laughed and bumped Armin’s shoulder with his own.

“You know I’m right,” he muttered it a bit _too close_ to Armin’s ear, but the blond didn’t show any signs that it had affected him.

Eventually, the three of them decided to watch _American Dad,_ though not much attention was paid to the television.

They chatted for the most part; talked about how Armin was liking Trost, and Jean and Connie’s antics during high school; their shared interests, movies and music they liked (indie rock seemed to be the common denominator among them). They’d breached a _number_ of topics by the time the midnight hour had passed, though Armin remained tight-lipped when it came to things relating to his family.

Connie went through three beers while Jean was finishing his second can. Armin had stopped at his first.

“Don’t you work tomorrow?” Jean sent Connie a questioning glance, to which his best friend groaned and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

“Technically it’s today.” He sighed heavily. “And yeah. I open, which I really _don’t_ feel like doing at six in the fucking morning.” Connie leaned back on his hands, shifting so he was sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor.   

“Where do you work?” Armin asked. He was stirring a spoon through his mug of chamomile tea. He’d been craving something warm to drink to nurse the vague drowsiness he’d been feeling ever since the beer had gone through his system.

“The Panera Bread on Buchannan Street,” Connie responded and sighed again. Buchannan Street was the strip downtown with all the food venues, if Armin remembered correctly. “We open at seven. Meaning I gotta get there before six.”

“Jesus Christ...” He felt genuine sympathy for Connie then. Armin couldn’t imagine having to get up _that_ early for anything – in high school he didn’t need to be out of the door until after eight, and even _that_ made him cranky.

“You should probably go to sleep then. You need adequate rest.” He offered his shorter roommate a small smile.

Jean inclined forward so he could look at Connie, nodding in agreement with the boy next to him.

“Yeah, man. What Armin said.” He stretched his legs out beneath the coffee table. “I might just leave out with you. I’d like to go jogging before the sun comes up and it gets too hot.” He clicked the clock application on the smart TV to check the time. _12:12 a.m._

Connie rubbed his temple. “Alright, alright.” He paused, then pushed himself up from the floor and stood. His arms threw above his head in a stretch.

“Don’t have too much fun without me, kids.”

Jean rolled his eyes at his words. “I’m older than you, dumbass.”

“Only by a month, so shut up.”

“A month and _five days_.”

Jean was smirking while Armin laughed quietly. Connie scoffed and started to paddle off to the hallway.

“Goodnight, Connie!” Armin twisted his torso around and called out to him. “Sleep well, and I won’t see you before you leave so be careful tomorrow. It’s supposed to be a _scorcher_.”

Connie exhaled heavily at the knowledge. “Ugh, damn. I’ll keep that in mind.” He lifted his hand in a slight wave. “Goodnight, guys.”

“Night, Connie.” Jean sent his friend a tiny smile, and once he’d disappeared into the hallway, he turned to look at the blond.

“The weather guy said it’s gonna be the hottest day of the year yet. I’ve never been happier to _not_ be going anywhere tomorrow.” Jean stared into baby blue orbs with his own, taupe ones. Armin felt a slight churn in his insides as he wrapped his hands around his mug.

“You’re lucky.” He glanced away to break the eye-contact between them. “The Jaegers invited me over for brunch tomorrow, so I’ll have to brave the heat.”

Jean peered down at him. “Oh really?” He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Guess that kinda puts a damper in me asking you to watch a movie with me, huh?”

Instantly, Armin’s eyes returned to Jean’s face – staring wordlessly before he shook his head and smiled.

“Oh, um…. no? No, it doesn’t...” Armin blinked his eyes together as he considered it. “It wouldn’t hurt to stay up for another hour or so, right? I mean it’s only midnight.”

He felt Jean’s eyes on him whilst he sipped his tea.

“Yeah, I guess it _is_ only midnight.” He briefly glanced at his Apple watch before his gaze met Armin’s again. “But Armin, you better not fall asleep on me.” His tone held a playfulness that made the blond’s eyes narrow.

“I know _all about_ chamomile tea. Shit makes you drowsy as hell.”

“I’m not even tired.” Armin pouted and snatched the remote from the coffee table. The boy may not have been feeling exhausted, but watching things at night – there was a possibility that Armin would indeed fall asleep. He’d refrained from saying so to Jean, though. Watching this movie with him was something he wanted.

“Whatever you say, Armin.” A chuckle was heard to the right of him. “What do you wanna watch? I’m down for anything, really.”

Armin took a moment to think. “Hmm… well,” He looked toward the television screen as he brought up the applications page. “do you think… Pitch Perfect would be on Netflix or Hulu?” Turquoise eyes shifted to Jean’s face then. He watched a smile form and Armin couldn’t help but mirror it.

“I fucking _love_ Pitch Perfect!” Jean exclaimed. The sound startled him a bit. Armin certainly hadn’t been expecting such a response. As far as he knew, most people would be embarrassed to admit they liked a film about acapella singing. But Jean’s unapologetic honesty (and dorkiness) was refreshing. It reminded him of himself.

“Same. It’s actually one of my favorites.” The admittance came with a small, sheepish chuckle. He was pretty surprised when Jean’s smile turned toothy.

“Shit, for real? Looks like we’re kindred spirits.” He gently petted the boy’s shoulder, then turned to the TV with a huff. “And neither. I’ve checked.” Before Armin could voice his upset, he spoke again. “But I’ve got it downloaded on my MacBook. Lemme go grab it and I can hook it to the HDMI.”

Armin beamed. “Okay!” He tucked back some hair that had escaped from his ponytail. “Shall I go pop some popcorn? We could make it a real movie night, or… is it morning? I mean it’s not super late so I guess it still could be considered nighttime but like—”

“Popcorn would be great, Armin.” Jean effectively halted his rambling. He rose from the floor and arched his back to stretch the stiff muscles. “Mm, I’ll be back in a sec, okay? Literally a second. My computer’s right on my bed.” He flashed a final smile, then passed through the open doorway into the hall.

“And that couch is getting moved back. I’m sick of sitting on the floor.”

Armin smiled inwardly as he too got to his feet, but not after finishing-off the last sips of his tea. He carried the mug into the kitchen and found himself musing that this movie night-or-whatever-it-was would surely be a good way to gauge if his attraction to Jean Kirschstein was something he should be worrying about.

\- - -

**WEDNESDAY, JUNE 28 TH: 4:10AM**

A stirring on the couch urged hazel eyes to look up. _‘Oh, he’s awake.’_ Jean observed silently, ceasing the motion of his hand and dropping his graphite pencil down into his lap.

He watched the small blond at the other end of the couch shift into a sitting position, the action sluggish and careful. He was still very _clearly_ within the grasp of sleep. Jean couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Hey, Sleepyhead,” he greeted, a chuckle on his lips. He was sure to keep his legs bent so Armin couldn’t catch a view of his sketchbook. He wouldn’t take any chances – no doubt the blond wouldn’t be too pleased to know how Jean had passed the time during his nap.

Armin was blinking the remnants of sleep away. He hugged the quilt Jean had put over him closer around his body, lips parting while a look of confusion gradually crossed his face.

“Oh… did I fall asleep?” His fingers brushed the side of his temple. “Shoot…” A whisper of pink dusted his cheeks. Jean unconsciously held his sketchbook closer to his chest.

“Yeah, you did.” The taller of the two grinned faintly. “Right after the movie ended. You’ve been out for…” He peeked at his Apple watch. “about an hour now.”

“Really?” Armin asked with widened eyes. “God, I’m sorry. It must be after four now and you stayed up with me all that time….” He looked at Jean guiltily. “You didn’t have to do that.”

His words made Jean feel embarrassed. He shrugged his shoulders and glanced off to the side. “It really wasn’t a big deal. I mean I’m not all that tired. I… kinda got lost in doing sketches so the time passed pretty quickly for me.” Jean didn’t have time to stop himself from sharing that information, but he certainly regretted it. He knew Armin would wonder. He couldn’t exactly _tell_ him the truth.

_‘Oh, hey Armin. Yeah. I was drawing you while you slept ‘cause you looked pretty damn cute all bundled up like a little blond burrito.’_

Jean mentally cringed. _‘Most definitely not.’_

He eyed Armin as he leaned slightly closer and his brow curved upward. “Sketches? Of what?”

_‘Damn it.’_

“Oh, random stuff.” Jean searched his mind for something to tell him that w _asn’t_ the truth. He wasn’t too fond of lying usually, but Jean knew this situation was dire.

“Some characters from a comic I’ve been working on.” It wasn’t completely dishonest; Jean _did_ have a comic series he was working on, but he hadn’t drawn for it in some weeks now. Armin didn’t have to know that.

He watched the boy’s eyes light up with interest. To Jean, he kind of resembled an excited child – and it was cute. _Really fucking cute._

“For real?” Armin shifted out of the quilt. Jean’s eyes momentarily stayed to the twiggy legs peeking out his track shorts with the dolphin-trim on the sides. He wondered if he was eating enough to be _that_ thin. It was vaguely concerning.

“Jean, that’s really cool! I have, like, _no_ artistic talent. I can only write.”

His enthusiasm did well at stroking Jean’s ego. The taller male smirked and, after looking once more at his drawing, he flipped his sketchbook closed. He unbent his knees so he could sit a little closer to Armin on the couch.

“Writing _is_ a form of art,” Jean reminded. “And c’mon now. Eren told me about your mad jewelry-making skills.” Around his neck, Armin wore a silver chain with a little crescent moon pendant and a topaz stone hanging in the center. Jean gently flicked the charm with his finger.

“This one of your pieces?”

Armin’s eyes widened at the contact and he began to stumble over his words.

“Oh, n-no…” he said, “that was a gift from my grandfather.” Armin glanced away sheepishly. The blush from earlier returned to his cheeks.

“Eren really likes to exaggerate. All I do is buy charms and attach them to chains... It’s not really anything special.” He tugged a lock of golden hair with his finger and looped it around the slender digit.

Jean gently petted his shoulder. “I think it’s special.” He smiled reassuringly at him and watched Armin smile back. That made Jean’s insides lurch in the most _worrying_ of ways. He was sure he’d not felt like that in some time. Not even weeks before, when he’d last seen… _that person._

 _‘Don’t even think about that.’_ Jean knew if he did, it would hurt. So he preferred not to. But uwhen he closed his eyes, all he could see was a scene playing out in his mind. It felt uncomfortably real; Jean could just about _feel_ the early-summer chill in the air.

_‘You’ll wait for me, won’t you Jean?’_

That voice. Those words. They seemed to echo repeatedly until he found himself blinking rapidly and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. _‘Fucking get it together, Jean.’_ It was fortunate Armin wasn’t looking at him and couldn’t see his strife.

It was the other male’s soft “thank you” that brought him back. Jean swallowed, and then, slowly glanced at the blond beside him. He was rubbing his left eye with his hand and then he carded his fingers through his hair.

“Looks like someone’s sleepy.” Jean’s voice was strained, though he did chuckle at the slight narrow of his eyes.

“It’s almost four-thirty so I’m allowed,” Armin said, yawning. When he covered his mouth Jean noticed that his hand was small and waiflike – much like the rest of his body.

“Of course you’re allowed,” Jean told him. “I was just against it earlier. Y’know, ‘cause we had plans but… now, sleep to your heart’s content.” _‘And I think I need to put some distance between us.’_ He scratched the skin around his eyebrow piercing, then rubbed a sudden stiffness in his shoulder.

“I’m thinking of heading in too, actually.”

Armin straightened into a standing position and Jean followed suit after collecting his art supplies. He waited until they were both about to exit the room before switching off the lght.

“Jean,” Armin grabbed his attention with a whisper. He was smiling brightly at the taller boy. “Thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun.” His bedroom was adjacent to Connie’s and Jean’s was across the hall. The walk was fairly short so only a few paces were taken to reach the closed door of the blond’s room.

Jean chuckled lowly, rubbing his nape in a somewhat sheepish manner. “Armin... there’s really no need to thank me. It was for my own enjoyment too.” He watched him place his hand over the metal knob of his door and Jean briefly glanced away. Admitting that, for some reason, made him feel embarrassed.

Armin twisted the knob and pushed the door open. “It was kneejerk. I was just…. being courteous, I guess.” It seemed he too was feeling sheepish. When he urged Jean to look at him again, Jean noticed his eyes said something along the lines of ‘we should do this again’ – but he didn’t speak on it. Instead, Armin let out a chuckle of his own, and the smile that graced his lips was honeyed and sweet.

“Well, goodnight.”

Jean nodded politely in response. “Yeah, goodnight, Armin. Sleep well.” He wasn’t sure why, or how, but that moment felt… incomplete, in a way. Jen sort of felt something more should be said other than bidding each other a good night. But perhaps not; Armin had already stepped inside his room and was shutting his door. They shared a wave and then Jean immediately started towards the bathroom to splash some water on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, fam. <: Leave your commentary if you'd like (I love hearing what you guys think of the plot and stuffs) -- and you can always subscribe or bookmark to get notified of updates.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter~


	4. The Curse of Being Armin Arlert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated birthday, Armin!

**TUESDAY, JULY 11 TH: 1:14PM**

“—and  _this one_ , well… this one is sort of…”

Armin watched the man while his face changed. He wanted to know more, but he wouldn’t press. Bertholdt seemed particularly uncomfortable by whatever it was he was fixing to say. The blond found himself frowning when he shifted his gaze away.

They were sat in the _Starbucks_ at Vicheim Central Mall. Armin took sips of his iced coffee while Bertholdt rehashed the tales behind the tattoos covering his arms. He’d been closely listening; Armin was keen to learn more about this man whom he’d, on a whim, decided to have coffee with. But also, the prospect of adorning one’s body with art had always been interesting to him. It was a win-win.

The boy was perplexed when his companion suddenly grew timid and his words faded off.

“Sorry.” Bertholdt regained his composure after a short while. “It’s just, uh, this phoenix…” Armin’s attention was directed to the flaming bird printed on the ball of his shoulder. “My boyfriend loves it. Phoenixes are his favorite mythical creature.”

He had somewhat of a faraway look on his face as the words left him.

“…Reiner, right?” Armin inquired with caution. He had minimal knowledge of the guy Bertholdt was dating; just his name and that a sports scholarship in Karanese had taken him a whole  _time-zone_ away.

He’d been hesitant to ask more since he doubted Bertholdt would want to confide in someone he sarcely knew.

“Is that a bad thing? I mean, him liking the tattoo.”

To that, the dark-haired male shook his head. “No, it’s just that…” He sighed, and his eyes returned to Armin’s face. “talking about him is really… It unearths a lot of feelings. I miss him like _hell_. And whenever he’s mentioned I guess I get reminded of it.”

It appeared to Armin that wasn’t the whole story. Bertholdt swallowed some of his Frappuccino with a sullen look.

More than he knew, Armin could empathize with the feel. He knew  _precisely_ what it was like to be separated from a loved one.

“Oh… I get it. Sorry I pried,” the blond muttered softly. He sucked up some of his cold brew through the straw. “But hey, I understand how you feel. It wasn’t someone I was dating… but it  _was_  hard to deal with Eren and Mikasa moving away.”

Apparently, the blond was still subject to sadness when he thought about it. He masked the falter in his disposition with a smile and a quiet laugh.

“So… yeah. If you ever need someone to wallow in your sadness with, I’m your guy.”

Bertholdt hadn’t displayed his usual, reserved demeanor. He appeared to be disarmed (at least slightly) by Armin’s statement. The ghost of a smile even formed on his lips.

“Thanks, Armin. I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” His boost in mood was notable, and it provoked the young man’s smile to grow.

He could certainly say he was glad about their decision to hang out during their coinciding lunch breaks. He hoped it wouldn’t be an isolated incident. It may’ve been too early to tell, but he thought he and Bertholdt would get along well as friends, despite what Jean thought of him.

The blond chuckled when, after sipping his beverage, a bit of mocha-drizzled whipped cream gathered at the corner of Bertholdt’s mouth. His companion noticed his mirth and a cold sweat ran through him.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing, you just…” He pointed towards Bertholdt’s mouth to indicate what he was referring to. “The whipped cream got a little…”

“O-Oh.” Bertholdt wiped away the residual whipped cream with a napkin. He watched the boy continue to laugh, and his cheeks reddened slightly.

“How embarrassing…” He shifted his eyes to the side again.

“It’ really not,” Armin said, his laughter dying a little in his throat. “ _It’s cute”_ waswhat he wanted to say, but something told him Bertholdt wasn’t the type that would like to be called a thing like that.

He nodded towards the larger man’s drink. “Perhaps next time I’ll try that. What is it again?”

Green eyes fell on him. “Oh, it’s. It’s a caramel-mocha Frappuccino.” There was a small, tentative upturn of Bertholdt’s lips when Armin questioned him.

“You’d… like to meet again, then?”

“Of course I would.” Armin smiled back at him, then peeked down to his lit phone screen. There were nine minutes remaining of his break.

“Is that okay?”

The man nodded with enthusiasm. “Yeah. Yes. For sure.” He seemed to disbelieve it, which was sincerely incredibly  _endearing_  to the blond.

“Awesome.” Armin lifted his coffee up for the final sip, his eyes remaining plastered to Bertholdt’s face as he commended himself for acquiring this new friend.

\- - -

**TUESDAY, JULY 11 TH: 7:42PM**

“You think Armin will wanna come?”

Jean peered at his roommate incredulously. He’d turned his attention from the iPad propped on the coffee table. “Why ask me? Do I  _look_ like Armin to you?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t know, man.”

Connie was still swiping at the screen of the device. He paused for a moment before elaborating. “I meant… do you  _want_  him to come? Like, would you be good if he was there?”

Currently, Jean was assisting in the task of booking a hotel for The Squad’s weekend at Kreuder Beach, a beach town not too far from the city. It was to celebrate Sasha’s eighteenth birthday.

Armin had yet to arrive home from work so they had the apartment to themselves, but his voice was needed to decide exactly how many rooms to book.

“What do you mean, _good_? Of-fuckin’- _course_ I’d be good. He’s my friend, isn’t he?” His voice spiked in volume and Connie exhaled.

“Yeah, you’re not alone. You know everyone loves that kid.” He spoke with the slightest smile. “It’s just… I’m kinda worried about it, bro. Deny all you want but there’s… some _chemistry_  between you two. I sense it, and I’m sure the others do too. At least a little.”

Jean let his mind work over Connie’s statement. He tried not to think too much about this apparent  _chemistry_  that everyone noticed, and instead focused on the larger picture.

It was difficult, though. He’d been _pretty damn aware_ of that since they met, and as sharp as Armin was, he  _knew_  he had to be as well. Honestly, it was making keeping _that promise_ he made to _wait_ all the more burdensome.

“Uh... okay.” Jean cleared his throat rather conspicuously. “And what is your point?”

Connie’s face was pensive. “My point is  _that thing_  you don’t like talking about is still pretty fresh. You sure you wanna spend a  _whole weekend_  with a guy you’re obviously attracted to right now? Marco’s still—”

“You’re assuming shit’s gonna happen between Armin and me when that wasn’t even on my mind.” Jean was irritated already.

“He’s our roommate and our  _friend_ , Con. Sure he’s fucking cute but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna jump him. I do have  _some_  tact.” He grimaced. “And I’m not still thinking about Marco. Fuck.” It was hard to mention his name without  _cringing_.

“I wasn’t trying to assume shit. I’m just concerned.” Connie’s eyes shifted back to Jean, but before he could say more, the sound of a key twisting in the lock reached their ears.

“Well your concern is  _damn annoying_ ,” Jean mumbled under his breath before they’d moved their attention to the front door.

 Armin entered with a warm expression, even as he looked to be _dying_ beneath the bulging backpack on his shoulders.

_‘Be cool, Jean.’_

“Hey guys,” Armin greeted. They watched him step completely into the apartment and throw off the backpack.

“Yo,” Connie and Jean chorused. The shorter male waved and reciprocated the smile, while Jean just tipped his head in a nod.  

In an instant, Armin was plopped on the couch alongside them. Jean couldn’t help but muse over the faint scent of coconut that clung to him, even after a day of being on his feet. It was strange how nice he smelled, but it was also strange that Jean was thinking  _so hard_  about it.

 _‘Way to be a fuckin’ creep,’_ he thought to himself.

“Uuuugh,” the small blond groaned tiredly. “Curse my frugalness for not Uber-ing home from the library. That walk  _killed_  my back...” He arched said area and reached around to rub the lower portion, breathing lightly as he did so.

Each thing Armin did, Jean observed, was so delicate and  _soft_ , and it was obviously without any effort. It was fascinating, and oddly endearing too. Jean felt a chuckle bubble in his throat.

“Want me to take that to your room for you?” He pointed to the backpack by the door. Armin seemed unsue, but he nodded and sent Jean an appreciative smile.

“Yeah, you can if you want.” He brushed his untrimmed bangs out of his eyes.

Connie grinned. “You should probably cut your hair, bro.” He playfully flicked at the pale locks that touched the top of his shoulders. The contrast against the blackness of his uniform shirt was kind of a nice sight.

“Eren says that all the time.” Armin laughed a little. “But I like the length. I dun’no… it gives me personality.” He wound a trees of it around his finger and pursed a pink mouth.

“I’m with you, Armin.” Jean straightened from the couch and paced over to fetch his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder with ease. “I like your hair long.”  _‘It’s prettier than Mikasa’s.’_

“So does Mikasa. That’s three against two!”

The chuckle that escaped Jean was low. He tossed a final glance to his roommates, then entered the short hallway, hearing Armin and Connie continue to chat seamlessly.

 

He pushed open Armin’s door. There wasn’t much to be seen since it was already dark outside, but his mind’s eye reminded him of the light, oceanic color scheme. Jean could see the outline of a moon-phases wall decal above the boy’s bed.

He walked to his nightstand, switching on the table lamp to bathe the room in a dim light. Jean had been prepared to set the backpack down and leave, but something caught his eye.

He halted and glanced at the obviously handmade picture frame standing in front of the lamp. The frame was made of a light sandy wood and adorned with little trinkets glued onto its surface. Stars, a crescent moon, the sun and all the different planets. Jean’s interest was piqued.

_‘Did Armin make this?’_

Behind the glass was a photo of who Jean knew to be Armin, with Eren and Mikasa on either side. They were hugging each other and smiling hugely at the camera. The picture looked as if it was taken in front of a beach, but they were dressed for cold weather.

Armin had on a leather jacket lined with fur and skinny jeans tucked into a pair of worn ankle boots. Mikasa was in a dress, a bomber jacket with roses printed on the breast and her signature red scarf. Jean couldn’t say he cared much to examine Eren’s attire but he was dressed similarly to his friends in warm clothes.

The photo appeared to be recent; Jean had been with Mikasa when she bought that jacket. He assumed this was during the Jaegers’ trip out-of-town they took that last November.

_‘Armin mentioned his birthday’s in November… Was this to celebrate it?’_

Jean studied the photograph for a bit longer, then he realized he should probably be getting back. He broke away and left Armin’s bedroom.

When he reentered the main space of the apartment, he saw that his roommates were still on the couch as he’d left them. Armin was leaned forward while Connie fingered the screen of his iPad.

Jean rounded the couch and sat on the other side of the blond.

“I got Armin to agree to come.” Connie shot Jean a look that resembled the one he’d given him earlier. Jean didn’t respond to it; he was growing tiredof his friend fussing over him like he couldn’t handle his own shit.

“That’s awesome. The guys’ll be happy.” Jean remembered the unanimous agreement that Armin should come to the beach with them. He also remembered Sasha’s enthusiasm about inviting him to be an official member of The Squad. Everyone, of course, had been wholly on par with that. Jean found it a little odd how  _instantly_  they’d all takin a liking to him. It seemed all that bragging Eren had done about his “fucking amazing and super likable bestie from Shiganshina” had been warranted.

He watched Connie bring up sample pictures for the suites they planned on booking. “So,” he began, “I was thinking we’ll do three rooms. One for me and Sash, and two double bedrooms for everyone else. One of ‘em will have a separate sitting area with a sofa bed if you guys don’t wanna all sleep in the same room.”

In the sitting area, they saw, there was also a little kitchen nook and a round table with three chairs pushed underneath. Jean figured that’d be the communal space for everyone to hang out during the trip.

“That’ll be perfect for Jaeger’s snoring problem,” Jean commented, smirking.

Both Connie and Armin spurted out laughter.

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one thinking it,” his shortest roommate snorted.

The blond grinned and shook his head mirthfully. “His snoring is… a little _abnormal_.”

“A little?” Jean laughed along with them. He’d not even thought to factor in that if Eren  _was_  to crash on the couch, he and Armin would be left  _alone_  in a room together. Of course they’d be in separate beds, but it was still something he should be considering, wasn’t it?

_‘Wait, why do I care? Armin is just a friend to me.’_

Jean glanced away from the blond beside him to rid his head of all such thoughts. He heard Armin continue to chat with Connie about how Eren’s recently been receiving treatment for his sleep apnea problem.

Jean had remembered Mikasa originally bringing it to her brother’s attention during high school. Thinking back on their friendship, he definitely found it  _odd_  that Armin never visited them. Perhaps if he had, Jean would have met him sooner.

“Oh, hey, ‘Min.” Connie’s voice pulled Jean back to the present.

“What’s up?” Armin asked.

Connie was thumbing something into his iPhone 7 and smiling. “I just added you to the group text with everyone.” Armin’s phone chimed with a new text. “See?”

The blond unlocked his phone. He saw the text and smiled brightly at the device in his hand. “Oh yes, I see! Awesome. Um, why is it called ‘104th’?” He blinked his eyes curiously.

Jean looked over the boy’s shoulder. “It’s ‘cause we’ll all be TSU’s one-hundred and fourth graduating class.” He was clearly eager about this piece of information. “If no one has to repeat a year. Or drops out.”  

Armin stole another peek to the text thread brought up on his phone. “That is….  _horrendously_  cheesy, Jean,” he remarked. “But I like it.”

When Krista typed her excitement over Armin’s presence in the chat (with a bunch of heart-eye emojis following it), he watched the genuine glee seep into the smaller boy’s face.

_‘Be cool, Jean.’_

But even telling himself that didn’t quell the difficulty of not smiling when he saw that pretty upturn of his lips. He refrained from doing so, though. Jean was no idiot. He  _knew_  how strangely perceptive Armin could be and figured it would be easy enough to gauge just how much he was affected by his actions.

It was embarrassing, really, that Jean might be developing a crush against his will – and so early-on, at that.

But… was it actually early? It had been a month since he met Armin in _Chipotle_. In that span of time, he’d gotten to know someone he now called a  _friend_.

Perhaps he had assessed everything wrong. His fear of coming on too strong had warped the situation, he now realized, but it still loomed quite presently in the back of his mind. Jean knew he was too fond of Armin to screw shit up with his aggressive pursuits, but he _also_ knew how fluttery-light his stomach felt whenever he did much of anything that was directed at him.

 _‘Just give it time and let it happen if it’s meant to be.’_ He knew that was the logical way to think about it, but everyone knew Jean was an “act first, think later” sort of guy.

When he looked down at Armin, he only wanted to come up with an excuse to touch him. To like, have their hands brush or something.

 _‘Connie doesn’t know shit. I am_ not _thinking of Marco.’_

The little cutie at his side happened to be a good distraction from his other, darker thoughts.

\- - -

**FRIDAY, JULY 21 ST: 11:53AM**

There were some days Armin just  _knew_  were going to go badly, and that second-to-last Friday in July was proving itself as one of them.

To start, it was swelteringly  _hot_  outside – 96 degrees and the sun hadn’t reached its apex yet – and while Vicheim Central Mall did have air conditioning, the food court had always been stuffy for one reason or another.

Besides that, Armin had been plagued with an  _intense headache_  due to lack of caffeine.

The Keurig hadn’t been working that morning so the blond opted to stop at _Starbucks_ on his way to work instead. Unfortunately, the delay on his subway ride made him far too tardy to stop for any sort of refreshment.

Armin had never been a morning person, and now, as he stood at the host’s booth waiting to greet incoming customers, he couldn’t wipe away his peeved expression.

 _‘Maybe I should take my break soon. It_ is _almost noon….’_ He needed to get some coffee in him.

“Yo, Armin.”

The voice prompted him to turn his head. Jean Kirschstein had parked himself at the open entrance of the restaurant, and Armin would admit he was quite  _the looker_  in his ivory v-neck and dark-wash skinny jeans. The boy wondered if that beanie was making his head hot. The weather was a bit  _ridiculous_  outside.

“Oh—hello, Jean,” Armin said after he’d studied him. “Are you… here to eat?” It was a silly thing to ask;  _of course_ he was. It would be vain of Armin to assume he might’ve come simply to visit him.

Turquoise eyes followed Jean as he stepped further inside and then checked the face of his smartwatch.

“Nope,” he said evenly. Armin was a bit stunned by his blunt reply.  _‘Then why…?’_

For a second, Jean had dashed his eyes away. His earlier confidence seemed to dwindle just the slightest bit. Armin had a feeling he’d be offended if he’d known he noticed it.

“When do you go on break?” Jean was in front of Armin, the wooden booth separating their bodies. Even as Armin stood at elevation he had some noteworthy inches on him.

 _‘He’s tall and handsome. But not dark…’_  The blonde smiled very faintly at the joke he’d made, even though it was painfully cheesy and kind of dumb. When he peered up, he met Jean’s eyes with his own, curious gaze.

“I was gonna take it in like an hour.” He’d been dense on figuring out the reason Jean had shown up initially, but in that moment Armin was pretty confident he knew why he’d wondered about his break.

 _‘He’s trying to ask me out.’_  An unknown emotion slithered into his chest.  

Jean held his gaze quite intently, though his demeanor was vaguely anxious. “Well, uh, did you have plans? We could do something if you’re free. I don’t have shit to do today and Connie’s working so…” he paused. “You like the avocado rolls at _Aoi Sakana,_ don’t you?”

Armin thought. _Aoi Sakana_  was the express sushi place on the opposite side of the food court. Jean was proposing they have lunch there, clearly. He’d not been planning to take that long of a break; only fifteen minutes to give him enough time to run upstairs to Starbucks and grab a cold brew.  

But Jean looked so hopeful.

“I do,” Armin said with a nod and a small smile, trying to squash his foul mood that just kept lingering. “But I can’t today. My coworkers and I, we’ve already made plans.”

He wasn’t sure why that lie had tumbled out. It was as if his subconscious was reminding him that being alone with Jean was never a  wise idea.

“M’sorry, Jean.”

His roommate looked crestfallen. Armin sighed mutely and considered a further apology, but he chose against it.

Sure, he knew he  _did_  want to spend time with him, but something inside kept saying  _‘maybe not’_.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Jean masked the dejection well, but Armin still caught it. “I was just suggesting it. But if you and Eren are already—”

“Don’t assume it’s with Eren.” Armin lifted a hand and brushed some blond hair behind his ear. “He’s not even on the schedule today. Some of the guys that wait tables asked me out for coffee.”

“A whole group of guys, huh?” Jean chuckled impishly. “Sounds like you’re pretty popular, ‘Min.”

Armin’s smile turned coy. “Not really.” He ran his fingers along the sides of the booth.

Just then, a man in a pinstriped suit and a young girl – maybe around seven or eight? – entered the _Olive Garden_. Armin greeted them with a (slightly forced) friendly disposition.

Jean eyed them, then he looked at Armin and exhaled a soft sigh.

“Oh… you’ve gotta work. I should let you go.”

He’d begun to walk backward in quick strides. Armin watched him. Before he could leave completely, the blond got a spontaneous thought.

“Jean, wait.”

The taller youth halted with his foot not fully on the ground like he’d been  _waiting_ for Armin to stop him.  

“Yeah?” The hopefulness in his voice was unmistakable.

_‘What am I about to do?’_

Ignoring his better judgement, Armin inhaled sharply and said, “I get off at four-thirty today. If you don’t mind waiting, we could maybe hang out later?”

Jean’s whole demeanor perked up. His lips curled into a smile and his cheeks blushed pink, though he didn’t seem to notice.

“Hell fuckin’ yeah,” he replied excitedly. ‘I mean— wait, no. No, I don’t mind waiting.” Jean rubbed his nape, evidentially feeling sheepish for tripping over his words. Armin found it ridiculously endearing.

 _‘He’s such a dork.’_ Armin bit back a giggle and donned his own, more discreet smile.

“Then it’s a date,” he said.

\- - -

**FRIDAY, JULY 21 ST: 1:12PM**

Armin stared blankly at the wall and was thankful he was alone. Because the _Olive Garden_ he worked at was inside a mall, the majority of his coworkers spent their lunch breaks at places that  _weren’t_  the breakroom. And Eren didn’t work Fridays. This all meant Armin was safe to sit in the empty space and have some _much-craved_ private time.

He’d taken his break exactly at one and asked one of his coworkers to grab him his Starbucks, for fear that Jean might still be lingering around and would catch him in his lie.

Truly, the mere  _thought_ of his roommate was enough to make him pinch the bridge of his nose.

 _‘I can_ not  _believe we’re going on a date.’_  

But… was it really a date? They’d never specified what “hanging out” qualified as, and the topic of their sexualities had never come up.

At some point, he uncovered that Jean had dated both men and women in high school, so he would assume he was bi. Or maybe pan. His sexuality didn’t matter much to Armin except that he didn’t know what Jean expected from this outing.

Had he only asked because he was bored? Maybe he thought they needed an actual opportunity to get to know one another.

_‘Maybe this is just an impromptu outing between friends.’_

Maybe that was what it would be, and maybe Armin wouldn’t read too much into it and deem it something more. But overthinking and obsessing over minuscule details were things that came with the curse of being Armin Arlert.

He sighed, wondering exactly what kind of mess he’d gotten himself into.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like the kids are going out. My boys…. Yes. I ship it. Armin literally broods and overanalyzes everything and I’m like “bruh, chill pls”. But I’m honestly the same way. uwu Also hey, I’m sorry if nothing super eventful has happened in these first chapters…. I swear, things will pick up pretty soon. Just stay tuned, k?


	5. Social Experiment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added in an extra chapter to the outline so instead of 27 it’ll be 28 (I think). Whoops.  
> Song for this chapter:  
> A Place You Like – ISLAND

**FRIDAY, JULY 21 ST: 4:46PM**

**[iMessage to Armin]**

_Yo. I’m next to the fountain in front of Nordstrom._

**[iMessage from Armin]**

_K! Coming out now_

Jean was feeling rather pleased with himself that evening. He pulled up in his BMW and parked (precariously) adjacent to the fountain near Nordstrom’s ground entrance. He knew it was the entrance nearest to the food court and he didn’t want Armin to have to do too much walking.

After a few minutes of (impatiently) waiting, the automatic doors opened and out stepped the person he’d been anxiously anticipating seeing.

Armin was dressed in a blue short-sleeved button-down with a gradient pattern and denim shorts, and his pale hair was pulled up.

Jean wasn’t sure he could refer to his hairstyle as a  _man bun_ per se, since Armin… happened to be so damned pretty, but that was what it technically was. One hand was gripping the strap of his backpack while the other lifted to wave.

He shuffled over and opened the passenger door of Jean’s convertible, sliding in only after he’d tossed his backpack on the floor in front of the back seats.

“Hi, Jean!”

Armin’s mood, Jean gathered, had shifted from earlier that day. The blond buckled in his seatbelt and fixed him with a smile that Jean readily returned.

“Hey again, ‘Min.” Amber eyes briefly scanned his attire. Skinny legs stuck out of the shorts that really did emphasize the title of being  _short._

“I see you changed out of your work clothes,” he observed.

Armin had crossed his legs at the ankle. “I always bring a change of clothes just in case,” he replied. “I usually just stay in my uniform but we’re gonna be out and I didn’t want to be in a stuffy long-sleeved shirt and slacks.”

He laughed, and the sound was like fizzing soda bubbles to Jean. The taller boy bit his lip as he drove his car away from the mall and started through the parking lot.

“That’s smart,” he agreed. After a while, the two had lapsed into chatter about how each of their days had gone. Armin’s was more interesting by far; Jean had just stayed at home playing GTA for the most part. When Armin inquired about why he didn’t just occupy his time with getting a job, Jean shrugged.

“I’ve worked a few jobs in high school.” He traveled down the main road towards Trost. It was good Vicheim was only a twenty-minute drive away from the city.

“But I don’t know, I guess I never really liked it. I don’t do well taking orders from people.” Jean knew his explanation was likely childish, but it was the honest truth.

“And I’ve never had to work, anyways. I’ve got my trust fund, so what’s the point?” The words held a tinge of cockiness when he spoke them. He watched Armin roll his eyes.

“Oh yeah, forgot about your  _privileged life._ ”Something about his countenance said Jean’s statement hadn’t gone over too well, but he didn’t seem like he was going to address that.

Jean felt awkward when he moved his eyes back on the road ahead.

“So, uh, you hungry?” When they reached a red light, Jean hooked his phone into the USB jutting out of his dashboard and opened his Spotify app.

Armin puffed out a soft breath and nodded. “You read my mind. I was gonna ask if we could go eat somewhere.” The smile on his face was sweet. “I’m kind of in the mood for foreign food. Not Italian, though...”

Jean chuckled at the boy. “Gotcha.” He handed him his phone to convey that he wanted him to choose the music. Armin took it gladly.

“How does French sound?”

Armin was too busy with his current task to look up. “Sounds yummy.”

Jean smiled to himself. He knew  _exactly_ where they’d go, then.

Without even thinking about it, his hand settled on the back of Armin’s headrest, and his eyes widened when the music finally began.

Cage The Elephant poured out from his car speakers. More specifically, a tune from their newest album.  _Too Late to Say Goodbye_.

It triggered a memory of the album tour and him, Eren and Connie catching a Greyhound into Hermina to see them. Jean recalled how much fun he’d had emphatically screaming the lyrics along with the band. 

It was hard to believe sweet little Armin Arlert would like this sort of music.

“Armin, you…?”

“This is Eren’s favorite band. I guess it was a force of habit at first but I really like them.” He smirked faintly. “That one album… you know, the one that has  _‘Come A Little Closer’_  on it? That’s my favorite. But this one’s cool too.”  

Jean was definitely impressed. He’d heard the music Armin liked and it was mostly that electronic chillwave shit that seemed to be the new fad. Jean had never gotten into it much. His favorite band would always be Arctic Monkeys because, in his opinion, there was nothing that could top post-punk.

“I mostly like their first album,” Jean stated enthusiastically. “Y’know, bonding over music’s how me and Eren became friends. I saw that he was wearing a shirt for a band I like and we ended up talking about it.”

In his mind’s eye, he recalled the moment clearly. He’d sat in his brother’s car (he hadn’t been able to drive at the time) and passing around a joint while they listened to the  _Melophobia_  album.

“It was cool for a while, ‘til he said some stupid shit and we ended up at each other’s throats.” Jean heard the tiny laugh that left Armin.

“Sounds  _exactly_  like you two.” He looked over at him, his expression amused. “Eren’s told me a similar story.”

The convertible top being down was definitely doing a number on his hair; some of the blond strands were escaping his bun and tossing around his heart-shaped face. Armin seemed to notice because he smoothed his hair back. The action was mostly ineffective.

“I’ll admit Jaeger can be good company sometimes. But that guy can also be a huge dick.” Jean’s lips tugged into a smirk. “It’s usually the latter.”

Armin held his silence about that. The song changed and the album continued to play on shuffle. Jean found himself idly singing and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Armin sang along with him, and Jean never stopped being stunned.

“So I’m curious.” Jean grabbed the boy’s attention, deciding to continue the conversation. “How did  _you_  become friends with him? You guys’re like attached at the hip.” Jean noted the change in his surroundings that indicated they’d entered the city.

Armin had stuck his arm out of the car to rest it on the window sill. “It’s… not really an interesting story. I was ten and had just started at a new school. I’m sure you can guess by my runty size the bullies pretty much ate me up.” Armin laughed, but Jean didn’t find it the  _least bit_  humorous.

“They didn’t like that I’d been moved up a grade because of my intelligence. They thought I was  _‘full of myself’_.” Armin enunciated the last bit with air quotations.

“One day after school, Eren had shown up and fought the other kids off.” He paused and pursed his lips. “Well… he tried to. Mikasa was the one they were really afraid of.” That was when they both chuckled and Jean muttered a low “of course” under his breath.

“When the bullies were gone, Eren and Mikasa took me to Dr. Jaeger to get checked out. He treated my wounds and then… they just kinda stuck by me, I guess. At first, I think it was just to protect someone weaker than them, but time passed and a real friendship came of it.”

Armin was smiling as the words left his lips. “Before we knew it, we were pretty much inseparable.” 

Jean listened. He had conflicting feelings about the knowledge if he was being honest.

A large part of him thought it was terrible what Armin had gone through. His heartstrings had definitely been tugged on when he heard about the bullying. But also, Jean felt happy.

This was the first time he’d truly opened up and told him something about his past. Usually, Armin kept things shallow or directed the more personal questions at Jean. He’d never understood why his roommate felt the need to be so  _private_.

“Wow, that’s…” He began, then stopped, unsure of what to say in that moment.

Armin gently tugged his lip with his teeth. “Sorry, did I ruin the mood?” He seemed genuinely apologetic. Jean’s heart had lurched in his chest.

“Oh God, no.” He saw relief break onto Armin’s face. The hazel-eyed boy chuckled some, then carried his eyes to the road for a second.

When he looked back, Jean had regained his composure. “I just thought… I don’t know, I thought it’d be something like you saving Eren from fucking with some older kids and getting his ass kicked.” He shrugged. 

Armin found humor in his words. With a laugh, he reached up and removed his hair from its tie, combing it with his fingers and letting it tumble down. Jean couldn’t help but stare at the hypnotic sight.

“I’ve done that too, believe me.” Armin grinned. “Eren was pretty hardheaded when we were kids.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. It hasn’t changed one bit.” Jean snorted out his own laugh. He didn’t have to look much to realize they were close. Jonquil Boulevard approached and Armin began watching the trees as they passed them.

“I can definitely see how close you guys are, though,” Jean said. “It makes sense.”

Armin didn’t meet his eyes. “There was a time when we did _everything_ together. Joint vacations, holiday dinners, all that...” The blond seemed truly happy for a time. It was a good look on him.

“The Jaegers would always help us out when we were having money problems, or whatever else that came up. They’re honestly like a second family to me.”

Armin released a soft, contended sigh as he said, “I’m forever grateful to them.”

Jean would admit, at first he just assumed Armin was some kid with a massively  _obvious_ crush on Eren, but now he understood. It made sense why they clung to each other so much. Jean might’ve even thought It was kind of sweet, though he kept that to himself.

“I can only imagine how much it must’ve sucked when they moved away.”

In the time Jean had known him, he was well accustomed to how evasive Armin got concerning topics that made him emote. But now, they were in his car together on their way to have dinner, and maybe even a movie afterward if Jean played his cards right. He could at least try, couldn’t he?

“It was,” Armin said. He was momentarily silent, just staring at the passing trees. Then he breathed out.

“We’d… all started high school together and then, in the middle of our second year, Dr. Jaeger’s job relocated.” He was speaking with measured calmness, almost like he was in a trance.

“It was probably one of the most awful things I’ve had to endure… having apart of me just  _taken away_  and being completely powerless.”

Armin shut his eyes and breathed deeply, then his lids lifted again after a few seconds. There was a small upturn of his lips when he looked at Jean.

“But I’m happy the three of us are going to uni together. I’ll get to see them all the time.”

His abrupt change in mood nearly gave Jean whiplash. He wondered how much of his  _true feelings_  Armin was shielding from him, but he supposed he’d never really know. 

“Yeah. Friends are… well, without ‘em, we’d all be pretty fucked, wouldn’t we?” Jean smirked. “Clearly even  _Shithead Jaeger’s_  important to someone.”

The blond shook his head. “I really don’t get why you and Eren are so hostile towards each other.” A soft chuckle aired from him. “You guys are more alike than you realize.” 

Jean immediately took offense (how _dare_  anyone compare him to that piece of shit), but he’d admit, it wasn’t the first time he’d heard it. He scoffed loudly but couldn’t cross his arms because he was holding the steering wheel.

“Why the fuck does everyone say that?” he grumbled.

Armin’s chuckle grew into fully blown laughter as he swiped his fringe from his eyes. “Clearly there’s some merit to it.”

To that, Jean made a ‘tch’ sound with his teeth.

 

 _Collette’s Coastal French Cuisine_  came up on the left side of the street. Jean immediately started to survey the area for a place to park.

“Collette’s...” Armin pronounced, realization trickling in the way water spreads over a paper towel. He brought his arm back in. “Isn’t that your—”

“Yeah, it’s my mom’s place.” Jean was extremely eager. For a split second, the blond’s eyes narrowed, then his face fixed itself and he worked a hand into his pocket (the action definitely would’ve been easier if those shorts weren’t so  _tight_ ). It resurfaced with a few bobby pins a second later.

“Jean… don’t interrupt me, please.” The warning didn’t hold any venom and it was kind enough, but Jean still felt a tiny bit ruffled by it.

“Sorry, I’m just excited,” he lamented immediately.

Armin pinned the side of his hair back and turned to smile at Jean. It was tiny, but still detectable. Jean had to break away when he began to park his convertible on the street.

“It’s fine just… try not to do it again? It’s a pet peeve of mine when I can’t get my thought out.” Armin’s chuckle was soft as he pulled out his phone to ensure his hair looked presentable.

After parking, Jean reached into the backseat for his Axe body-spray.

“I mean the thought was still out there. I was just the one who said it.” The comment left him without much thought. Armin looked as if he was going to say something, but he didn’t. A last fluff was given to his hair.

“You’re not really gonna spray that, are you?” Blue eyes glanced at the bottle in Jean’s grasp. “This car already reeks so heavily of  _Man Smell_.”

Jean snorted. “And what the hell is that?” When he sprayed himself, Armin squinted his eyes to display just how much it  _bothered_  him. The gesture, of course, was playful. Jean wondered if it was strange that he found him cute right then.

“It’s like…” Armin moved his eyes up to ponder and smirked. “I’m getting an image of a guy who wears snapbacks and slightly-sagged jeans. And ridiculously  _overpriced_  shoes, too. It’s the smell of guys who are overconfident and almost always have stupid grins on their faces. They probably played more than one sport in high school.”

Armin was becoming entirely  _too pleased_ with himself. “You, Eren and Connie all have it, you know.” He laughed, and while Jean rolled his eyes he couldn’t help a small smirk.

“Tch. You judgin’ me?” He had to make a conscious effort not to grow unreasonably annoyed. He heard Connie, as well as his anger management counselor, telling him to  _chill the fuck out_  in the back of his mind and he exhaled.

“Not judging. Just making a harmless observation.” Armin sang the words out. “And nobody said it was a bad thing, Jean.”

“Clearly it’s not _, ‘Min._  You’re in this car with me and we’re about to have dinner at my mother’s restaurant.” Jean’s tone was defensive.

Armin lifted his hips to grab a stick of Blistex from his back pocket. The application process shouldn’t have been  _that_  captivating to watch.

“To be fair, I didn’t exactly agree to come here,” Armin reminded him as he returned the lip balm to his pocket. Jean had all but  _deflated_  at his words.

“You didn’t want to?”

Armin huffed a soft sigh. “I didn’t say that. I was just stating a fact.” He paused, then unclipped his seatbelt.

“Let’s go inside.”

It didn’t take long for Jean to recover. He shut off the music and unhooked his phone, then followed Armin in undoing his seatbelt.

“Yeah, we should try and get a table before the evening rush. I wanna eat outside.” Jean exited the car and shut the door. Armin followed suit.

After locking  the vehicle, Jean guided his date down the sidewalk towards his mother’s restaurant.

\- - -

**FRIDAY, JULY 21 ST: 5:36PM**

_Collette’s_ was a deceptively intimate restaurant with both indoor and outdoor seating areas. It was located right on the shore of the river so the deck overlooked the water, creating an intensely  _romantic_ atmosphere.

Soft piano music played live from the foyer. Armin did poorly at containing his  _awe_  as he and Jean were brought to their outdoor table by Collette Kirschstein herself.

“Constantine isn’t with you?” she had asked the moment she saw them together. Armin cackled because he could hear Connie groaning and pleading with her not to call him that in public.

Jean had rolled his eyes and said, “No, Ma, it’s just me and Armin today” and then inquired about eating on the deck.

She sat them down with their menus, ordered her son to make sure Armin had enough to eat and then left.

The blond had a fond smile on his lips as he pondered the thought that people other than the Jaegers truly did care about him.

“It’s beautiful, yeah?” Jean was speaking about the view of the river. Armin nodded in earnest. He’d like to think Jean was so insistent on getting a table outside because he knew how much Armin liked to be near water. It seemed like something the other male would do.

“Yeah, it’s really gorgeous here.” Armin rested his cheek on his palm. “It’s calming. The vibe it gives off, I mean. Water has always made me feel at ease.”

Armin had always felt a connection to it. His grandfather, a learned scholar who spent the majority of his time buried in books, had told him it was because of his astrological assignment. He was a water sign. A November Scorpio.

Even as a child, Amin had been curious about why a scorpion would be named as such since they were land animals too. His grandfather said it was because, while they honored spiritual and emotional aspects of life – symbolic to the flow of water – their logical side kept them grounded on the earth. It made sense. He’d given Armin a few astrology books to read after that for more in-depth explanations.

“I think you mentioned that when we were discussing The Beach Trip.” Jean smiled back at him. “That’s why I wanted to make sure we got a table outside.”

 _‘As I thought.’_  The blond wondered how well he’d take to being called sweet. Truthfully, Jean didn’t seem like the type who’d like that. Armin resisted the urge when it surfaced.

“I’m really stoked for the trip,” was what he said instead. “It sucks that Shiganshina is too far north for summer to really…. be a thing. It’s just mild and rainy there, even at the beaches. My grandfather and I used to go sometimes but we never got in the water. The y were mostly for boardwalks and those cool local shops that you wouldn’t even know were there if you weren’t looking.”

Armin pointed a hand to his moon pendant, smiling as he rehashed the memory. “My grandfather actually got this made for me that first year I came to stay with him. He took me to Corvish Falls – that was a beach not far from where we lived – and there was this little custom jewelry shop, I remember. Grandpa got my birthstone put on the necklace special.”

Gentle fingers brushed over the little gem that hung from the top of the moon. Armin couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken the necklace off. He scarcely did, even before his grandfather had died.

It was nice that Jean appeared to be completely enthralled.

 “I see now why you don’t ever take it off. It must mean a lot to you.” He propped his elbows up on the table.

The blond nodded and smiled wistfully. He knew if they remained on the topic, he’d likely be sent into a depressive state.  _It’s one of the only things I have left of him_. Not wanting to go down that road, Armin decided to direct the attention to his roommate.

“Do you have anything like that?” he asked.

Jean tilted his head in thought. “Um… not that I can think of?” He shrugged. “I guess I don’t really feel strongly about any of my physical possessions.”

But Armin, of course, was not convinced. His expression turned teasing as he looked over at the other male. “Are you forgetting about…  _Luffkins_?” He smirked. “I’ve heard tales about how nights without him involves some _heavy_ sleeping pills.”

The blond was pretty much cackling now, and Jean looked none-too-pleased by the reference.

“I know how much he—”

“ _Don’t_  bring Luffkins into this,” Jean grunted. Clearly, the stuffed horse that Jean slept with  _every night_  was not meant to be a laughing matter. His immediate defensiveness was adorable, though.

“Look, he was a gift from my dad, okay? I cried a lot as a kid and that horse was one of the only things that got me to shut up.” He seemed genuinely  _embarrassed_  to share this knowledge, but he still did and that meant something.

“I just… got used to sleeping with him, I guess. Now it’s kind of a habit.” He looked away and Armin chuckled.  _‘God, he’s cute.’_  He was starting to reply to that when quickly Jean interjected him.

“But at least I’m not some damn pillow hoarder.” The retort made Armin cringe slightly. He chewed his lip when their gazes locked. “What is that about anyway? Why do you sleep with all those pillows on your bed?”

He was torn on what to say. He knew no matter the way he phrased it, even if it was just a half-truth, it would come off strangely.  _I’m used to having another body in bed with me._ The blond bit the inside of his cheek and looked to the water, searching for something to calm his nerves.

He wasn’t ready for Jean to know about that side of him.

“I used to collect them,” he said, hoping Jean was unaware of his inner turmoil. “But now… it’s mostly just for comfort purposes. They don’t hold any real sentimental value. I just like being warm at night.”

Jean fixed the smaller male with a grin. “No offense, ‘Min, but that’s hella boring. I was expecting some wild childhood tale or some shit.” He chuckled.

A slight smile curved onto Armin’s lips as he watched his roommate’s face. “Sorry to disappoint.”

 

When a young woman came to bring them the drinks they ordered, Armin glanced up. A virgin strawberry daiquiri was set in front of him and a birch beer (lightly-iced) in front of Jean.

Armin thanked her kindly but panicked when she asked if they were ready to order and heard the  _thickness_  of her accent. It somehow made him feel rushed. But Jean gallantly came to his rescue. He said something to her in their mother tongue that made her nod and walk away. Armin would assume he told her to come back in a little while.

He’d admit, hearing the other speak the French language so  _fluently_  was sexy. And watching that angular jaw move while he said the words…

“You have an idea of what you want?” Jean turned taupe eyes to Armin and snapped his thoughts back above the belt.

“I’ve got this menu pretty much memorized so you can just tell me something you’re craving and I’ll try and find a match.” His tone was so endearingly  _warm_  and perhaps it was because of where his mind had already strayed, but Armin definitely felt a blush creeping up his neck.

_‘God, I’m so obvious, aren’t I?’_

Despite what Jean said, Armin picked up his menu, preferring to see for himself what he was going to order. The menu had a leather exterior and thick, laminated pages that were each stretched over a thin strip of metal.  _‘Wow, fancy.’_

“Do they have rack of lamb here?” Armin asked. “I know that’s a popular French dish and well… I rather like lamb. I think I’d enjoy the meal.” It had been a while since he’d dined on such a  _luxurious_ meat, but he supposed this was a more or less everyday thing for Jean. It was instances like this one when Armin was reminder of how very _different_ they were.

Jean followed his action of opening up his menu.  _“Carré d'agneau,”_  he read right off the page. “Yeah, we have it. Do you want a side? Soup? A salad?”

Armin sat his menu down, figuring it was needless since the majority of the contents were in French. He sipped on his daiquiri through the straw and pulled the strawberry off the rim of the glass.

“I want some kind of potato side.” The blond nibbled  on the piece of fruit up to the stem.

 

They worked out their orders. Rack of Lamb and scalloped potatoes for Armin, and a sautéed trout with onion soup for Jean.

The blond, of course, had a thing or two to say about how  _expensive_  everything was but Jean repeatedly assured him that the meals would be discounted – if they were charged at all. Armin had snickered and made a comment about how much his mother  _spoiled_  him.

 

Armin felt a vibration under his thigh (it had been where his phone was kept since his pockets were too shallow to hold it). He hesitated for a second before pulling it out and looking down at the screen.

 

**[SMS from Eren Jaeger]**

_Omg so beauty and the beast is on Netflix now.  
We have to watch it bruh_

 

Unconsciously, Armin smiled. He was all too aware of his best friend’s deep  _obsession_ with Emma Watson, as he was sure anyone within the general vicinity of him would be.

She was his phone background and he had a poster of her right above his bed on the ceiling so it could be the ‘last thing he saw before going to sleep’. Armin genuinely thought his celebrity crush was adorable.

“Your phone more interesting than me?” Jean’s eyes narrowed playfully, but there was a grin stretched over his lips. Armin swiftly tucked his phone away and laughed.

“No no, of course not.” He grinned as well. “It was just Eren, but it wasn’t urgent so I can hit him back later.” He folded his arms across the table and leaned on them.  ‘I don’t have my read receipts on so he won’t know I’ve seen it. No harm done.”

Jean smirked like he was pleased by Armin’s natural deviousness. “It seems like Eren’s always texting you.”

“I guess he is.” Armin shrugged with a smile. “He’s my best friend. We have a lot to talk about.” The lot of their conversations, he’d admit, weren’t about anything at all. But it still made the blond immensely happy to speak to him.

Just then, the waitress returned to their table. Jean began speaking to her in French and called her “Lexie” _._ Armin didn’t know much of the language; he’d only taken it for a couple of years in middle school before switching to Japanese when he got older. But he heard a few, vaguely familiar terms.  _La nourriture._  That meant food, right? Honestly, he had half a mind to text Eren back. He felt hopelessly excluded. But he didn’t; the blond kept on smiling and handed  _Lexie_ his menu when they seemed to be done.

 

“Mm, fuck, I can already  _taste_  that onion soup,” Jean said, turning his eyes up with a toothy smile.

Armin snorted as he watched him. “I was refraining from saying anything but that doesn’t even sound good, Jean.” He was attentive when Jean looked down to meet his eyes.

“I’ll let you have some of mine.”

It was a weirdly intimate suggestion. This whole outing was weirdly intimate to Armin. What exactly did it qualify as? A date? A casual dinner? Were they flirting or just having friendly banter? Armin felt strange about asking, so he didn’t. He just smiled and agreed to what Jean had said, then took another sip of his daiquiri.

 - - -

Of course, he’d been right when he said he wouldn’t like it. Armin scrunched his nose and drew his spoon back onto the fancy cloth napkin that definitely was _not_  disposable.

“Okay, you’re just fucking insane, ‘Min.” Jean watched him while shaking his head. “It’s delicious.”

The blond made a ‘pfft’ sound with his lips. “I  _told_  you I wouldn’t like it. Anything with onion in the title will probably make me dry heave.” He paused, then looked down at Jean’s food with a smile. “Sorry.”

“Like I said, you’re fucking insane.”

 

He started to eat away at his potatoes first, while Jean cut into his trout.

“Y’know, my senior prom was held at the hotel across the street from here.” A smile lit up on Jean’s face as he pushed his fork into the fish.

“Really?” Armin leaned forward a bit. He’d been pretty certain he saw a _Hilton_ when they pulled up to the restaurant. “I bet it was nice.”

 He didn’t attend his prom, but that was only because Armin didn’t have many friends in school – let alone a date. But Jean seemed like the type that would have  _both_.

“Mikasa told me she won prom queen,” Armin said.

“Yeah, it was fucking wild.” He couldn’t help but notice how much Jean swore when he talked. “She didn’t even have a  _campaign_. People just…  nominated her. No one was surprised when they called her name at prom.”

Jean chuckled and stuck some trout into his mouth. “It was still pretty funny, though. Yo, did she tell you who was prom king?” He had a cocksure smirk on his face when he asked.

 _‘Oh, of course this guy...’_ Armin had to snort. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say… you?”

Jean nodded as if to say ‘who the fuck else?’. Even without verbally responding, conceit  _radiated_ from his demeanor. Armin shook his head and laughed some.

“I can wholeheartedly see that,” he admitted, breaking off a piece of lamb. “But it must’ve been awkward for your date, huh? I mean I don’t know much about proms but… aren’t you supposed to slow-dance with the prom queen and take pictures with her?”

Jean sipped his birch beer and rolled his tongue around in his mouth. “I actually went solo, so it was fine. Mikasa and I just kept making jokes and laughing through the whole thing. It was pretty chill.”

Observing him made it apparent to Armin that his crush on her was nonexistent now – or at least, that was  _his_  deduction. The thought was oddly reassuring.

But there was still something that ate at him. “Why didn’t you go with anyone?”

Jean’s sudden discomfort was as clear as it was curious. It was the likeness of melting butter that the smirk  _slipped_  off his face.  

“The guy I was seeing…. He couldn’t go.” Jean said this like he didn’t want to say any more on the subject. Armin respected that, despite the fact that he was  _teeming_  with curiosity. Jean had been  _seeing someone_? He’d said it in past tense but… his prom couldn’t have been too far off. He wondered about the duration of their relationship, and if they were together for long, was he still mourning the loss? Jean didn’t really seem like he was, but Armin knew from personal experience how good people could be at masking their true feelings.

He decided, for that moment, he’d drop it. If Jean wanted him to know it would come up again at a later point, and if not, well… Armin had his ways of uncovering information.

“Shame,” he said in a light voice. He wholly intended to lift Jean’s spirits. “Spending a night with the prom king… now  _that_ would be a high honor.” He laughed.

Jean smiled at that and resumed eating his food. “You would know, huh?”

It was difficult to discern whether that was meant to be suggestive or not. The blond sunk his teeth into his lip and reciprocated the smile.

“I guess I would, yeah.”

\- - -

**FRIDAY, JULY 21 ST: 8:37PM**

That night, Armin lay in bed with his starfish plush hugged to his chest. He watched heavy rain slap against his window and remembered the mad dash he’d made with Jean to his car after leaving _Collette’s_.

The memory, oddly enough, made him smile, despite the discomfort of having to sit in wet clothes the whole ride back to the apartment.

Armin had called dibs on the shower the secondthey returned, and afterward, he’d locked himself in his room and burrowed his nude body beneath the covers.

He’d phoned Eren and Mikasa on 3-way with the objective of talking to them about what happened, though when the opportunity struck, the boy was silent.

He half-listened to his friends discuss other things. Armin found it was easy to stare off into space and brood over what he intended to speak to them about.

But, of course, his absence was noticed. Eren was the first to point it out.

_“’Min, did you die?”_

The blond inhaled and shook his head even though Eren couldn’t see. “No, sorry. I’m here.” He rolled onto his back. In the next room over, he heard Connie laughing at an episode of _Rick and Morty_ he was watching on his laptop.

“I was just… thinking about stuff.”

 _“What were you thinking about?”_ Mikasa’s voice chimed in next.

“Oh, uh…” Armin took a second to gather his thoughts. He knew the phrasing would mean a great deal; one word said incorrectly and Eren would probably be sent into a fit of rage. He knew that probability was heightened now that Jean was concerned.

Ocean eyes fell shut as the boy prepared himself for the inevitable fall-out.

“Jean and I…” He poked his tongue into his cheek. “We went out today. I think it might’ve been a date.” Armin said it slightly in a rush. It was odd what saying the word ‘date’ aloud could do to him.

The silence that followed was worrying, though not entirely unexpected. Armin opened his eyes again.

“So are y’all gonna say anything?” he huffed.

 _“I hope you’ve met some guy with the same name and you_ don’t _mean that piece of shit roommate of yours.”_  Eren’s tone held as much contempt as it did desperation.

 _“I highly doubt that’s the case.”_ In his mind’s eye, Armin saw Mikasa rolling her eyes at her brother. He smiled a little.

 _“So, Jean Kirschstein, huh? I’m kind of… Well, no, actually I’m not too surprised by this.”_ There might’ve been a tinge of amusement in her voice, but it could easily go undetected.

Armin’s eyes widened in panic and a cold sweat landed on his nape. “Why not?”

 _“You two have good chemistry,”_  Mikasa spoke calmly and plainly.  _“I see your interactions when we all hang out as a group. Whether it’s as friends or… whatever this date means, it’s there. So I can see why you’d want to go out with him.”_

Armin sat up in bed. “It’s not…” Small fingers sunk into his partially-wet hair. “Jean and I aren’t… I mean, a single dinner can’t mean anything.” He looked towards the window and saw that the rain hadn’t let up in its intensity.

 _“Not if you don’t want it to,”_  Eren bit out. It was pretty clear he was making a conscious effort to keep his voice at a leveled volume. Armin appreciated that. 

_“…. And you don’t, right?”_

_“It’s okay if you do,”_ said Mikasa.

Armin pondered for a moment, honestly unsure. He knew the larger part of his mind was saying  _no_ , but… he couldn’t help but remember how well their outing had gone. Things got a little unclear.

_‘It was an outing, Armin. Not a date.’_

“…No, I don’t,” the blond decided in a quiet voice. “It was just two friends going out for French food. No biggie, right?”

 _“Yeah, sure,”_  Mikasa agreed easily.

Armin detached himself from his covers so he could pad over to his dresser for some pajamas. The warmth that had clung to his body from the shower slipped away and he was starting to feel a chill.

 _“Wait, French food?”_  Eren stopped him abruptly.  _“You guys… y’all didn’t go to Mrs. K’s place, did you?”_

Armin blinked, his fingers hovering over the top drawer of his dresser.

“We did. Why?”

He heard his friend laugh. This only increased the blond’s confusion and his eyes narrowed slightly.

_“Oh man….”_

“What?”

There was a bit too much _grin_ in Eren’s voice.  _“He took you to see his mom. Sorry, ‘Min, but it looks like it’s only a matter of time.”_

“What is that supposed to mean?” Armin grabbed some boxer briefs, the motion stiff.

 _“Just be careful. And it’s probably better to vocally_ tell _Jean if you don’t want anything to hatch between you two. The guy can be pretty damn pushy.”_

Armin considered that. ‘ _Be careful.’_ He doubted he’d need much protecting from Jean, if that was what Eren meant. It was more the other way around. Armin would be the one that would make Jean run in the opposite direction in the end _._

With a sigh _,_ he stepped into his underwear and then went to fetch some lounge clothes. A striped pajama set was at the top of the folded stack. He collected them and then put his phone on speaker so he could use both his hands to get them on.

“Don’t you worry, Eren,” the blond said, nearly forgetting he’d not responded to him. “I’ll be sure to tell him. I can’t really afford anything more than friends right now anyway.”

He would keep telling himself that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but I can only imagine how hard Jean was staring at Armin’s ass after they got home and he walked to the bathroom in those wet shorts, lol.


	6. With Morning Eyes

**SATURDAY, JULY 22 ST: 8:03AM**

The crêpes at  _Collette’s_  were insanely good, Jean thought, and he was glad he and Armin had ordered some as a to-go dessert.

The morning after their date, Jean was standing in the kitchen after his visit to the gym and heated one up. He’d brought out a tub of Nutella to smear over it for extra flavor.  _Coffee and a crêpe._ That was a good breakfast.

He poured caramel creamer and a few spoonfuls of sugar into the ceramic mug and stirred it up. The Nutella crêpe sat on a rounded placemat on the island, and as he started to take steps to carry his coffee over, Jean noticed a second presence in the room.

He was suddenly  _very much aware_  of the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt when he saw the little blond in the doorway. Jean cleared his throat and hoped he sounded chill when he said, “Oh hey, good morning, Armin.”

Armin appeared as if he’d only just woken up, but he was still smiling a little bit. He stepped further into the open space of the apartment on socked feet.

“Morning, Jean. Did you just… come back from the gym?” Surely he’d not imagined that brief flicker of eyes over his bare torso.

The taller boy fought off a blush as he placed his coffee on the island counter. “Yeah, sorry I –”  _‘Why are you apologizing, idiot?_ ’ “I was gonna have my breakfast and then grab a shower.”

 Okay, now Jean was  _certain_  he’d seen Armin’s eyes stray. They seemed to be trailing to the anchor tattoo low on his left hipbone. The bottom of it dipped beneath the hem of his basketball shorts.

“Did you want a crêpe, too?” Jean asked, as a means to stop feeling so damn awkward. He didn’t understand why he was – perhaps though, it was because he was  _pretty sure_  Armin was checking him out.

“I already know you want a cup of coffee,” Jean deducted. Over the time spent living with him, he had become quite attuned to the boy’s caffeine addiction.

“French roast, right?”

Armin grinned like he was pleased, and a little surprised, Jean knew that about him. He waltzed all the way into the kitchen and peeked into the Keurig, seeing that it was already loaded with a fresh Starbucks pod.

“No thank you to the crêpe but I’ll definitely have some coffee.” Armin fetched a mug from the cupboard and tossed a soft smile over his shoulder. “I’ve got it from here, okay, Jean? You go eat your breakfast.”

Jean smiled back at him effortlessly. “Yes, sir.”

And so he did, perched at the island counter with the blond a few paces over fixing his morning cup. It was bizarre that Armin seemed to be in such high spirits in the morning. Jean wondered if he’d been having nightmares as he usually did.

“Last night was fun, yeah?” He decided to take a leap.

Armin happened to be waiting for his French roast to fill up his mug. When he turned to face him, he looked a little caught off-guard but he was still smiling.

“Yeah, it was.” He seemed to be carefully considering what he was saying. “So like…what exactly _was_  that?”

“I’d say it was a date.” Jean cursed how  _sheepish_ he felt saying it. He hadn’t been on a proper date with anyone in a while – and the time he spent with Marco couldn’t really be qualified as such, he knew.

It was obvious Jean still wasn’t ready to figure the whole  _Marco Thing_ out, though he knew he had to. He’d just went out with someone else and he was technically still unavailable.

_‘Am I though?’_

Jean didn’t really know what to make of the situation. He knew the best way to assess that would be to  _speak_ to the other party, but Jean hadn’t been the one who fell off with communication…

_‘Just don’t think about him.’_

He looked up to Armin’s face to find a distraction. The blond male was eyeing him curiously and holding the coffee creamer within dainty fingers.

“Is something up?” he asked, and Jean almost wanted to laugh because he’d been wondering the same about a different matter. He had to avert his gaze away because it was hard enough to lie when he  _wasn’t_  staring into those intense eyes of his.

Sighing, Jean looked to the fish tank against the wall beside the entryway to the kitchen. General Shang – the Siamese fighting fish that Connie was far too  _proud_  of himself for naming – was swimming in circles around some plastic kelp stalks. Such a simple life. For a short while, he simply watched their pet, then Jean spoke up.

“No, I’m good,” he said. “I just kinda spaced for a second. Sorry, ‘Min.” He hadn’t lied; it was true Jean _had_  spaced out, but he decided against telling the blond the content of his thoughts. He didn’t need to know.

“If you say so.” Armin didn’t seem completely convinced, but he didn’t seem like he was gonna press him either. He poured some creamer into his coffee and stirred it with a spoon. When he went for the sugar he stopped, then carried his eyes back to the larger boy.

“Jean, I have a bit of a confession.” He brought his lip between his teeth and worried it. Jean thought that must’ve been a nervous habit since he did it often, and he knew Armin to be a quite a nervous person sometimes.

“Confession? He swallowed the morsel of crêpe held in his mouth.

Armin sighed and nodded. “…Before last night, I’d never… been on a date.” He spooned some sugar into his coffee, then blew on the utensil and took a sip to test the sweetness.

“That was the first time, and it was fun but…” The boy met Jean’s eyes again. “I don’t know if I’m really _ready_ to jump into anything. I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise.” He looked mildly apologetic as he leaned on the counter and began drinking his coffee.

Jean let his words marinate. _‘He doesn’t want to jump into anything. Then what was the point of the date?’_ Honestly, he was torn between feeling sort of… shot down, but also, he wanted to laugh at the blond because it was just _one single dinner_ that could’ve easily meant nothing. Clearly it did to him, or at least that was what Jean would assume by what he said.

Hazel-brown eyes turned down on his plate. “It was just a dinner, Armin. Ya don’t need to get all in a tangle about it.” He grinned a little so his words might be more impactful. “I was just doing something nice for a friend.”

Armin looked immensely more relaxed. Jean couldn’t put a word to exactly what he was feeling when he looked at him.

“I’m glad then.” Armin smiled. “I’m gonna…. take this coffee to my room and get ready for work, ‘kay?”

He always did that in the mornings so Jean expected it, but he was sort of bummed. He was enjoying his roommate’s presence; even if it wouldn’t be anything more, he’d already taken a liking to the boy as a friend. It was totally harmless if he let his eyes linger once or twice. It wasn’t like Jean could help himself in that regard, anyway.

\- - -

**SATURDAY, JULY 22 nd: 7:19PM**

The rain from the previous day had persisted, though the intensity of it lessened substantially. Now, it was just a drizzly spray that Jean watched from his seat inside _Pinkberry_. His fingers were wrapped around his froyo while Connie sat across from him tapping at his iPhone.

“You listening to me?” Jean asked his friend. He was already growing annoyed, if he was honest. Jean leaned back in the plastic chair and folded his arms.

 _“Dude_. I said I was.” Connie too looked peeved. He dug into his yogurt and lifted his eyes to Jean.

“You were talking about your date with Armin that, according to him, wasn’t even really a date.” He snickered when he said the words. It was clear Connie found amusement in this.

Jean frowned. “Yeah, I guess that pretty much sums it up…” he muttered darkly. “Y’know Con, it wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t so damn _cute_.” Jean’s voice had raised to a rant.

“We had so much fun yesterday. We talked about all sorts of shit and it really seemed like he was _opening up_ to me.” He touched long fingers to his temple, sighing. “But he wants to be just friends and that confuses the hell out of me.”

Connie pursed his lips, evidentially deciding to be more serious. “Well… maybe he’s scared? You know I’m pretty perceptive when it comes to these things and it’s clear he’s attracted to you.” Another spoonful was taken of his froyo. “There has to be something holding him back. Ever thought about that?”

Jean shook his head dumbly. No, he _hadn’t_ thought about that, but honestly hearing the way Armin felt about him from another person was still enough to greatly boost his ego. Hazel eyes blinked together and Jean spooned in some of his yogurt.

“Damn, I didn’t.” He scratched the skin around his eyebrow piercing. “If that’s the case though, I highly doubt he’d tell me what the fuck’s going on if I asked.”

Jean really did hope he didn’t seem annoyed, but that emotion wasn’t something he could always help. He was already growing frustrated with Armin’s evasiveness, and they hadn’t even _talked_ about it yet. But did they need to? Jean thought he should probably save himself the grief.

“Jean,” Connie grabbed his attention again. “Man, I’ve never known you as the type to let a subject drop if you _really_ wanna know what’s up.”  He’d stopped eating and his eyes pinned on him purposefully. “Just be persistent. You’re good at that.”

“I don’t know, Con,” Jean said, sparing a glance at his smartwatch. He had a text from Emilia, his sister, that he’d be sure to check later. “If something’s… _bothering_ Armin, I bet pestering him would only make it worse.” He was honestly surprised at how much restraint he was showing.

“Maybe I should try a different approach. Be his friend first.” As much as he might’ve wanted otherwise, Jean also wasn’t about to pressure the blond into anything he wasn’t ready for. That just didn’t sit well with him.

Connie sat back with folded arms. “I can respect that. Just make sure you’re still asserting what you want. You know I ain’t afraid to advocate for you if it comes to that.” Connie’s words were genuine, Jean knew, but that didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes.

“I can do that for myself,” he proclaimed sharply. Jean knew if he was allowed to continue, Connie would likely start preaching about how _self-sacrificing_ Jean was, and how pliant he could get when it came to the one he liked. But now, Jean wasn’t sure if things were even like that with Armin. The blond had made it clear he wanted to be just friends, at least for the immediate future.

Wordlessly, Connie resumed eating his frozen yogurt. Jean would follow suit after replying to the iMessage of Emilia sending him a Tumblr post and saying It reminded her of him.

Jean allowed a chuckle at his sister’s antics, then he finished off his yogurt and immediately started to get up and order a second cup.

 

Upon returning to the table, he saw that Connie’s eyes had moved to his phone screen. If there was ever someone who was completely _attached_ to their device, it was him. Connie was more often than not texting Sasha, or taking care of his virtual pet cats. Whatever he was doing always seemed to occupy him so _thoroughly_. It was kind of annoying sometimes.

Jean had wholly expected the text his watch notified him of to be from Emilia, but he saw that it wasn’t and breathed in deeply. An unbidden smile lit up on Jean’s lips as he read the contents.

 

 **[iMessage from Armin]**  
_Pitch Perfect 3 has been pushed back alllll the way til December. Did you know?_

 

He practically heard the question in Armin’s voice, and it sounded ridiculously _adorable_ to him. The taller boy tugged out his phone and started to type up his reply.

 

 **[iMessage to Armin]**  
_Yea I heard. The very end of December.  
We still gon see it together. ;)_

 

 **[iMessage from Armin]**  
_Ofc we are!_

 

Jean wondered if it was strange how  charmed he was by Armin’s message. To him, it felt much like he was innsinuating they’d be going out alone together in December, and a lot could happen during that span of time.

For all he knew, by then, they’d actually be _dating._ That thought made Jean bite his lip and blush.

 

 **[iMessage from Armin]**  
_Though ngl, I’m a little worried._

He didn’t have a chance to ask why before another grey text bubble popped up in the thread. He’d nearly forgotten how peculiarly fast Armin typed.

 

 **[iMessage from Armin]**  
_They’ve pretty much exhausted all the good plot ideas with the first and second, don’t you think?  
Having a third seems unnecessary…_

 

Without reason, Jean smiled fondly at his phone. He really should be _doing_ _something_ about this budding crush he was beginning to feel for his roommate. But he could only bite harder on his lip.

 

 **[iMessage to Armin]**  
_You don’t wanna see it?_

**[iMessage from Armin]** __  
I’m too invested in the franchise.  
I’m sure I’ll end up liking it even if it’s wild tbh. 

 

 **[iMessage to Armin]**  
_Seeing it with me will def help in that regard  
;) ;) ;)_

**[iMessage from Armin]**  
_Pfft.  
I’ll mark it in my calendar_

Jean wasn’t sure if he meant that seriously, but he hoped he did. He responded with a simple   
“thumbs up” emoji to downplay the sentiments that happened to be _clutching_ at his chest. He thought he’d done that well, but keeping the dumb smile off his face was a different story entirely.

Connie obviously noticed. He looked up from his phone and smirked broadly at his best friend.

“What’s got you cheesing like that? You look like you just got a dick pic from Justin Timberlake.”

Justin Timberlake, as Jean was sure the whole _lot_ of his friends knew, had been his celebrity crush since the beginning of time. The fact that Connie thought to say _that_ when Jean was only texting Armin… Well, that meant he was in some deep shit, didn’t it?

Immediately, Jean released his lip from his teeth and narrowed his eyes at his shorter roommate.

“Shut the fuck up, Connie.” His tone was defensive. “It wasn’t even like that. Me and Armin’re just… discussing a shared interest.”

He placed his iPhone 7 on the tabletop to accentuate what he’d said, and make a point that he didn’t care to talk to him _that much_ (even if he did.)

“Mmhm, and it’s only a matter of time before he works his charms on you,” Connie said as his smirk grew wider. “If you could see yourself right now, Jean… He’s _got_ you.”

Jean made a point to ignore what Connie had said. It was blatantly obvious he was enjoying watching Jean squirm. The amber-eyed male chose to stare at the wall as he ate away his frozen yogurt.

“He said we’re gonna be just friends,” Jean was sure to reiterate that, though he didn’t expect it to sway Connie in the slightest.

“and I’m gonna honor that. I’ll be the best friend to him that I can.” Saying it aloud made it seem like more of a resolved decision somehow.

Connie rested his cheek on a balled fist. “Friends, yeah.” Apparently, the smug expression wasn’t something that planned on leaving any time soon. That disquieted Jean.

“I assume y’all will have some great benefits, then.” Connie laughed through the comment, and Jean’s face wrought into a glower _instantly_ after he words left him.

“Will you shut the fuck up?!” he thundered, leaning forward in his plastic seat. This only made Connie laugh louder, and in a higher pitch.

\- - -

**TUESDAY, JULY 25 TH: 9:17AM**

Jean stood in the living room the next Tuesday morning, a navy-blue weekender on his shoulder. It was the day they were to leave for Kreuder Beach. Jean was  _more_  than ready for it. His surfboard was propped on the side of the couch as he waited for Armin to join him so they could rendezvous with Connie downstairs.

Their third roommate was in the lobby with Sasha, and apparently, they’d managed to get her dad’s truck for the trip.  _Thank God for that_. Squeezing that many people into two sedans would hardly be ideal. Jean was  _not_  about to have Eren on his lap a second time.

If there had been a bitter taste in his mouth from the thought, it was immediately washed out when Armin emerged from the hallway.

Jean noticed he wore his signature color: the swim trunks hugging his legs were neon blue and patterned with a myriad of different sea creatures, which Jean thought was fucking _adorable_. He also had on a sleeveless hoodie that was zipped up only halfway and made an audacious display of the milky, and from what he could see, unblemished skin beneath. Jean was forced to swallow thickly in his throat.

“You ready?” he asked, trying not to seem like he’d been staring too much.  

Armin nodded and strode towards him. His eyes widened some when he spotted the surfboard. “I thought that thing only hung in your room for decoration…” His captivation by it was clear, and Jean decided he’d use it as an opening to impress him.

“Nope,” he replied proudly. “I’ve been surfing for years. I’m really good, too.” That wasn’t a lie. Jean  _had_  been surfing since he was fifteen, and he was pretty damn good, he thought.

“Yeah?” Armin’s eyes practically  _sparkled_ as he gingerly dragged his fingertip along one of the board’s stripes. “That’s really awesome, Jean! You should let me see you surf while we’re down there.” A honeyed gaze peeked up at him, and Jean couldn’t help but smile softly.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, mentally cursing when he felt a dash of pink dust over his nose. Jean couldn’t understand why he suddenly was so embarrassed by a suggestion as simple as that.

 _‘God damn it.’_ As coolly as possible, Jean covered his nose and tucked his surfboard under his arm.

“We should get going. Connie and Sasha are waiting on us.” He walked over to the door and Armin followed.

“Alrighty.”

The blond opened the door and held it for Jean to walk out. They made their way to the elevator at the end of the hall and once inside, Jean took to watching the purple bead charms that dangled from Armin’s phone case. It was all he could to do _not_ to let his eyes stray to the exposed skin of his chest, as much as he may’ve wanted to.

They reached the lobby after about ten seconds. Connie and Sasha stood chatting near the main exit, and the couple waved when they noticed them.

“Yo,” said Connie. His girlfriend, meanwhile, turned to them and smiled.

“Good morning, guys! Ready for the beach?”

“You know it.” Jean grinned. He saw the bounce in Armin’s step when he padded over. Clearly, he was as well. That made Jean genuinely happy to see. He smiled discreetly and walked to the grid of mailboxes on the left side of the lobby, listening to Armin and Sasha’s discussion over plans for their first day at the beach.

“Are we gonna check into the hotel first or head straight to the water?” Sasha asked, loud enough so any of the boys could add their input.

Armin adjusted the weight of his JanSport backpack. “I say we head to the water first.” He checked something on his phone before tucking it into his back pocket and approaching the double door exit.

Connie grinned. “Yeah, I’m with you, ‘Min. Check-in’s at one. I reckon we’ll get there around noon so we can kill time until then.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sasha sang out. She was picking something off the rubber of one of her flip flops. “I think we should spend time in the water and tomorrow maybe hang out around town?” The brunette’s smile grew when Connie craned up to kiss her cheek.

“What we do tomorrow is up to you, baby.”

“Yeah, birthday girl,” Jean agreed, smiling as well. He pulled out his mail key and unlocked the box indicated for Room 305. He anticipated to find only junk; coupon catalogs or magazines he’d unwittingly subscribed to while shopping online, but when he reached inside, his fingers touched a sealed envelope that seemed important.

It was a letter.

Curiously, Jean plucked it out and scanned the front. The top-left corner read, “SHIGANSHINA COUNTY PENITENTIARY” with an address beneath. The letter was made out to…  _Armin Arlert._

 _‘What the hell?’_ Jean blinked his eyes wide _. ‘Why’s Armin getting a letter from a…_ prison _?’_ He was confused, but more than that Jean was _worried._ His brow furrowed as he glanced over his shoulder. His friends were already heading towards the double doors that led to the parking lot.

“C’mon Jean! We still gotta pick up the others!” Connie called out to him as he pushed the door open.

“Gimme a sec!” Jean turned his eyes back to the letter and cleared his throat. “Hey, Armin… you have a letter. Looks kinda important.” He held the envelope up between his middle and forefinger.

Unfortunately, Armin was already halfway out of the door and too excited for the trip to think of much else. He smiled, but waved his hand in a dismissive manner and didn’t bother looking at what Jean was holding.

“I’ll look at it when we get back.” And then, he was gone, saying something about how Jean needed to  _hurry up._

“But–…Okay.” He watched him go, sighing deeply in his chest. Jean gave the letter a final glance before tucking it back into the mailbox and locking the door. He usually wasn’t someone to let things go so easily, but If Armin didn’t want to look at it, he supposed there was nothing that could really be done until their return from the trip.

Still though, curiosity, as well as a definite bout of _fear_ , plagued his mind.

Jean left the apartment and saw his friends piling into the large black truck at the other end of the lot. He hoped his smile seemed genuine enough when he jogged over.

“I’ll drive, Sash,” Jean offered when he reached the girl. He walked around to the back of the truck and made certain to position his surfboard so it wasn’t taking up too much space in the trunk. Sasha came up to stand beside him and placed her hand upon a broader shoulder.

“Sorry, Jeanny, but your road rage is kinda wild,” she said, laughing through her words. “Mikasa already offered. And Annie called shotgun, too.”

Jean exhaled. “Fine, then.” He shrugged her hand off a bit too gruffly.

“As long as I don’t have to sit in the middle.” The middle seat was notoriously uncomfortable no matter what car they rode in, and Jean’s legs were too long besides. Grimacing, he placed his weekender in the trunk as well and closed it afterwards.

“I’ll sit in the middle,” said Armin. His little body was already climbing into the Honda truck. Jean grinned and joined him.

“God, you really are an angel, ‘Min.” He looked down at him once he was fully sat on the suede interior.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jean saw the smirk Connie wore, but he ignored that in favor of watching the blond tuck back some hair that had escaped his ponytail. He noted the several tiny studs that trailed down the shell of his left ear.

“You exaggerate.” Armin chuckled.

Jean only smiled at that. As pleased as he was to have Armin beside him (and smelling so damn _delicious_ , too; that cinnamon apple shampoo was definitely potent) he found he was still thinking of that letter. His mind kept coming up blank when he thought of what it could possibly entail, and Jean didn’t know if it was exactly _appropriate_ to ask Armin. He doubted the boy would give him a straight answer if he did, anyway.

He held in an exasperated sigh. _‘It doesn’t concern me.’_ Jean knew the best option was to put it out of his mind, but it was difficult. It was kneejerk to feel concern and want to help a friend. He wanted to _be there_ for Armin as much as he could and maybe, in the process, show him that it was okay to be something more if they both wanted it.

…Okay, perhaps he was getting ahead of himself with that last bit. He still wasn’t entirely sure _what_ he wanted from Armin.

Sinking his teeth into his lip, Jean pulled the car door closed and leaned back. Sasha had gone over to the adjacent hi-rise building to pick up Annie, and then they’d be heading over to Mikasa’s uncle‘s place uptown. That would give him a short period without Eren hogging Armin’s attention, as he tended to do whenever he was around. It would be a damnable set-up because, presumably, the little shit would park himself _right_ on the other side of Armin, squishing the blond between them.

Jean was already frowning at the thought. He’d almost been engulfed by the negativity when the sensation of a soft hand on his bicep reached him. He looked over. Armin fixed him with a mildly concerned expression.

“Hey, you good? You seem… bothered by something.” Of course, Armin’s observation was correct, but Jean knew he couldn’t exactly _tell him_. He doubted going off on a rant about how much he detested Eren Jaeger would be well-received by his childhood best friend, especially when said best friend was a guy Jean was totally into at current.

In turn of speaking his mind, Jean pulled his safety belt over his middle and forced a smile.

“Yeah, I’m totally good,” he lied. “Just impatient to get going, that’s all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* What is that letter about?


	7. High by the Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the kiddies have fun on their beach trip.

**TUESDAY, JULY 25 TH: 1:39PM**

Jean stared at his phone screen, trying to feign disinterest, but it was increasingly difficult to ignore the _wonderment_ Armin expressed. Looking at him wasn’t required to know he was smiling, and that his eyes were blown wide. Jean could hear as much in the rhapsodic way the boy spoke.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” he gushed, though Jean didn’t think he needed much validation.

He wholeheartedly knew the question wasn’t directed at him, but still he spared a glance to where Armin stood at the window. The larger body of Eren Jaeger was posted next to him, with noticeably _lessened_ excitement.

“It is, yeah.” Eren gave his best friend an honest smile. It seemed no one was truly immune to Armin’s effortlessly _cute_ mannerisms.

“The girls need to hurry the fuck up so we can get in the water. I’ve been ready for _hours.”_ His impatience was seeping off his words.

The Squad’s decision to stop at _IHOP_ had hindered them a couple hours and they’d not ended up arriving until a little before their check-in time. Needless to say, they had to settle into their rooms before heading to the beach and everyone was getting a little _antsy._

“I feel you, bro,” agreed Jean, smirking. “I have a feeling it’s Connie and Sasha that’re taking their sweet ass time though. Bet they saw how nice the beds are and decided to christen ‘em.”

Eren choked out a laugh and shook his head. It was clear he was completely in congruence with what his friend had said.

“Fuckin’ hornballs,” he snorted.

“That sounds too much like them for that _not_ to be what’s happening.” Armin let out a laugh of his own. He stole one more peek to the window before sitting on the bed opposite Jean with a ‘plop’. Hazel eyes promptly returned to his phone.

It took him longer than he would’ve liked to realize Armin was speaking to him. Oceanic orbs fell on him when Eren dawdled into the large bathroom to fix his hair.

 _‘Fucking tool._ ’ Jean snorted inwardly.

“So you didn’t forget your promise, did you?” Armin’s smile glittered brilliantly.

“Promise?” Jean set his phone aside and gave his roommate his undivided attention.

“To let me see you surf!” Armin reminded. He feigned hurt but continued to smile. “You did forget. How could you?”

Jean couldn’t say why his cheeks pinkened that smallest fraction. He averted his eyes when he started to feel a bit awkward.

“I don’t ever remember _promising_ , exactly.”

“Guess not...” Armin recoiled slightly. “But you said you would all the same. It’s just a matter of semantics.” The hopeful edge in his voice was very much there.

“So… You will, won’t you?” The blond urged their eyes to meet again. Jean found he couldn’t look away from the intensity.

“’Course.” He mirrored the infectious smile. “You’ll be in for a real treat, too, ‘Min. I’m basically a _legend_ around these parts – you don’t even know.” It was difficult to stop Jean from tooting his own horn once he started.

“It’s a shame you’re also a pathological liar, Jeanny Boy,” Eren pointed out, finding his own words to be incredibly humorous.

Jean glared when he moved to join Armin on the bed. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Eren. Even you have to admit I’m good.” The volume in Jean’s voice rose when he addressed him.

“When Hell freezes over.” Eren chuckled.

Armin’s fingers stroked through the freshly-gelled locks of his hair, clearly approving of the style he’d done.

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself, then.”

An abrasive knock on the door grabbed their attention. Sasha’s voice was heard thundering through, shouting at them to _move their asses_. Both Eren and Jean got to their feet.

“We’ve been waiting for _you_ guys.” Eren flung the door open with mounting annoyance. Their brunette friend stood there, clad in a crotchet cover-up. Her boyfriend stepped up beside her in the doorway.

“Sorry, my dudes,” Connie said, though he didn’t seem the least bit apologetic. Jean noticed Armin approach the door, a cactus-printed backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked so ready for the beach and it was the _cutest shit_ Jean had seen al day, he was sure. He smiled to himself.

“Me and Sash got caught up,” the shorter male continued with a smirk.

Jean snorted and shook his head. “No need to elaborate, Con. We’ve all got a pretty good imagination.”

Eren steered Armin by his shoulders and pushed past the couple. “Let’s just grab the girls and go.”

Jean followed, his surfboard under his arm. He spied the closed door of the suite the rest of their friends were staying at and strode up.

“They’re probably wasting time doing stupid shit.” He balled his fist and banged loudly. There was a muffled, “I bet that’s Jean” and then the door opened. Krista was there in a floral bikini and a floppy sunhat.

“Are we ready?” she asked, smiling. Jean honestly thought Krista was just one of those people it was hard to _not_ constantly marvel at their cuteness. In that way, she analogous to Armin.

“Yeah.” Jean stepped back to allow the blond girl to walk out of the hotel room. Mikasa followed, and then Annie close behind. They all exchanged words of excitement as the group started towards the elevators.

There were too many of them to fit in one lift so Jean offered to stay behind, mostly because Connie as well as Sasha had been roped into the same fate.

“I wonder if it’d be faster to take the stairs.” Sasha adjusted the beach bag on her shoulder and huffed.

Connie chuckled, gently patting her arm. “Babe, you need to relax. It won’t kill you to wait five seconds.”

“You don’t know that.” Sasha playfully narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend.

“I gotta agree with Connie.” Jean chuckled as well, and Sasha turned her eyes on him.

“I would think my fellow fire sign would have my back.” She pouted.

Jean snickered and shrugged unapologetically. He leaned on his surfboard as he awaited the elevator, ignoring Connie and Sasha when they  started sharing kisses that were hardly chaste enough for public.

\---

**TUESDAY, JULY 25 TH: 2:57PM**

“Armin, what the hell?”

Armin tore his eyes away from his book and met two long, finely-haired legs planted at his side. He sat the book on the towel and caught the downcast gaze of a _very wet_ Jean Kirschstein.

The boy breathed in sharply.

“Is something wrong?” He blinked.

Jean crouched down so they were eye-level. “Why are you sitting here by yourself? Everyone’s out there.” He pointed his finger in front of them, where all their friends seemed to be having a field day playing around in the water.

Armin smiled softly. “I’m enjoying myself just fine.”

He _had_ gotten in when they’d all arrived, but after spending an hour getting knocked over by those waves, and exerting his energy playing countless different games of chicken, Armin was tuckered out and wanted to catch up on his reading.

“I just thought I’d get a few chapters in of this book and maybe work on my tan, too.” His smile morphed into a whimsical grin, running his hand over his arm to exhibit how pale he was.

Jean flicked wet hair out of his eyes. “What can you possibly be reading that’s more important than Squad Family Time?” His tone was impish when he asked.

Armin snorted. “Well, if you really wanna know, I’m _rereading_ The Lovely Bones.” Armin grasped the book again. Jean sat in front of him and scanned his eyes over the cover, then held out his hand.

“Can I see?”

Armin nodded and wordlessly gave it to him. He was pleased that Jean seemed so interested.

Jean turned the book over to the back. _"My name was Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie,”_ he read. _“I was fourteen when I was murdered on December 6, 1973."_ His eyes widened considerably when he looked back at the blond.

“Damn. Susie sounds like she’s having a hard time.” He continued reading the back cover in silence. Armin was slightly disheartened (he  hadn’t expected to take that much of a liking to hearing him read), but didn’t voice his feelings of course. When Jean finished, he met Armin’s eyes.

“I can’t say I’m one for reading much, but this seems really interesting.” He handed the book back to him.

“I can promise it is,” he said. A small smile come upon his lips. Jean appeared to be preparing to speak again, but he was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

“Hey! Don’t I know you?”

The question was directed to Jean, who promptly got to his feet and turned.

Both boys looked to where it had come from. The voice belonged to a tall woman. She was dressed in a blue surf-suit with a board of her own tucked under her arm. Her skin shaded light brown, and a dust of freckles covered her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Armin fond he to be quite conventionally attractive.

“Uh…” Jean’s eyes went squint as he took a moment to place her face. “Oh—shit. Ymir?”

 _Ymir_ smirked and pushed her surfboard into the sand. “Long time no see, Jeen.”

“It’s  _Jean_.”  

“Right.”

Armin watched them converse, feeling extremely awkward yet again. This scene seemed to play often; Jean would run into someone he knew and Armin would be left out. The blond heaved a sigh and began to reach for his book again, but Ymir’s next words made him pause.

“Are you going to introduce me to the cutie?” She glanced at Armin and smiled slightly.

The blond blinked. It didn’t take much to realize who she was referring to. When he looked to Jean in expectance, the taller male was smirking.

“I thought we already knew each other, Ymir.”

His jest pulled a snort from both Armin and the comely young woman. Armin gave Jean a look as he rose to his feet. “You are such a dork.” He giggled.

“You love it.” Jean patted his back a little too roughly, then seized his shoulders and presented him to Ymir with a wider smirk.

“This is Armin. The _real_ cutie.”

Armin blushed. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard Jean say it before… that _he was cute_. He was certain he thought so (most people did), but somehow, him declaring it verbally was something completely different.

Thunderstruck, Armin opened his mouth, then closed it, a smile dashing over his lips as he eyed Ymir.

“You surf?” was what he managed to ask.

Ymir nodded proudly. “Yes I do! And it just so happens I’ve beaten Jean here out in competitions for two whole years.” She smirked when she looked at Jean.

The younger male narrowed his eyes. “Oh, hop off it, Ymir,” he growled at her. “It was fucking close every time and you know it.”

Armin could see Jean’s distress; his pride was clearly being insulted. It only made him want to tease him further. He was curious how far he could push the other male.

“Jean, is this true?” Armin raised his eyes to him and grinned. “I thought you told me you were _good.”_

The look Jean gave in response was priceless. It was a hybrid between a pout and a snarl, and his arms were crossed childishly. The blond couldn’t help but muse how _cute_ he looked then.

“I _am_ good,” Jean defended. “But it ain’t fuckin’ fair when you put me up against a professional.” He glanced off to the side, bringing the blond to smile.

_‘He really is adorable.’_

“No need to sulk, kid.” Ymir snickered and patted his arm in a flimsy attempt at consolation. When she looked to her left, though, her attention kindled and her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline.

_“Holy shit.”_

Armin and Jean promptly followed her gaze. Krista was hiking her way up the slope that led back from the shore. Her arms stretched above her head _and_   _she was dripping wet_. It was hard _not_ to stare at the way her bikini clung to her curves.

“Who is  _that_?” Ymir’s lips parted. “Is she with you guys?”

Jean looked from Krista to the female at his side. He was amused by her evident infatuation. “What’s it to you? Oh, and just a thought, you might wanna pick your jaw off the floor.” The suggestion was wound around a smirk.

“Her name is Krista,” Armin said, laughing.

“Krista..” Ymir smoothed her hair back. When the blond girl approached them, she was smiling, her eyes shifting from Jean, to Armin, and finally settling on Ymir.

“Uh, hello.” She lifted her hand in a tentative wave. “I’m Krista. You are…?”

If they’d been in an anime just then, there’d surely be little daisies fluttering around Krista’s head on a glittery background. Armin had to bite his lip to refrain from laughing as Ymir made her fumbled attempt at a greeting.

Jean noticed her struggle too. He was smirking widely and looked as if he was on the verge of saying something he probably shouldn’t.

“I’m Ymir,” she finally managed, waving back at the much-shorter girl. “You know this loser?” Her hand was gesturing to Jean, who hissed.

Krista looked at Jean and patted him on the arm. That was really the best she could do, anyway. The girl was dwarfed at his side. “Jean’s not a loser! But I am with him… I mean, not  _with him_.” She blinked and blew out a small chuckle.

“He and Armin are friends.”

It was odd, but Armin felt a small twinge of joy when she referred to him as a  _friend._  He found himself smiling again as he observed Ymir try to ask her something else – Armin presumed she was trying to get her to go somewhere with her --  in the most wordy and scatter-minded way possible, and  _God,_  if Armin hadn’t been so shy he probably would have stepped in and blurted it out for her. But Jean seemed to be on the case.

“This is getting exhausting to watch, fucking Christ.” Jean sighed in exasperation. “Look, Kris, Ymir thinks you’re cute and is trying to ask you out. Now don’t get bashful. Ymir’s pretty hot.” He looked down at the girl beside him.

“You think so, yes?”

Krista and Ymir both turned to Jean with gaping mouths and red faces.

“Jean, I— well...” Now, it was Krista’s turn to stumble over her words.

“Thought so.” Jean reached down to pat her shoulder. “Now just say yes to whatever she’s gonna ask before she sweats off her freckles.”

Armin pressed his palm to his face, shaking head at Jean’s audacity. This entire situation was giving him a severe case of secondhand embarrassment. Armin almost felt a blush creeping to his  _own_ face.

But despite the forwardness, Jean’s urges  _did_  seem to work. When Armin finally thought it safe to peek up again, Ymir and Krista were about to head off in another direction. Jean was watching them, expression akin to a proud parent.

“Well. Looks like I’ve done my good deed for the day.”

Armin shook his head, giggling. He sat back down on the towel and leaned on his hands. “Do you even know what subtly is?”

Jean grinned at him. “Who is he? We’ve never met.”

Armin made a “pfft” sound with his lips. He began to reach for his book again, then stopped and looked up at Jean.

“You’re not gonna let me continue reading, are you?” Armin already knew the answer.

Jean shook his head and plopped down beside him, so close that their knees touched. The blond yelped in surprise.

“Fuck no I’m not.” Jean snatched the book away.

Armin huffed. “Lots of people read on the beach, Jean. It’s relaxing.” He pouted at him and tried to grab the book back. The action was futile; Jean utilized the length of his arms and held it over his head. 

“Yeah but,” The other boy scooted back. “you looked all pitiful and lonely. I didn’t like it.”

Armin blinked. He was a bit taken aback by his words, but nevertheless, he smiled. The boy decided he’d stop his fruitless attempting to get the book for that moment. He’d take a different approach.

“Jean, you amaze me,” he said honestly. His statement confused Jean; his thin brows raised and he slowly lowered his arm back down.

“What do you mean?”

Their eyes held, Armin’s smile grew somewhat.

“Just that…” He scratched his cheek with his finger. “It’s like you’ve got everyone fooled. You try to play the part of a big ol’ tough guy who’s mean to everyone, but Jean, really,” Armin crossed his legs and placed his hands in his lap. “You can be so _sweet_ sometimes.”

Immediately, Jean’s whole face reddened in color. He stared at Armin with a slightly slacked jaw.

“You’re just saying stupid shit now…” he muttered, averting his eyes. But Armin continued speaking. His demeanor exuded the sheer _warmth_ of his words.

“You took my book away just ‘cause you didn’t want me to be lonely. That’s where you messed up.”

Jean refused to meet his eyes, but his hand did move on its own and he gave Armin the book back. The blond smiled in triumph, and perhaps for another reason, too.

_‘Bingo.’_

There was blatant honesty in his attempts to cajole him. Armin couldn’t help but notice how bothered the other male seemed, though.

“I’m sorry,” Armin cautiously brushed his fingers against Jean’s arm. “Did I say something to make you feel uncomfortable?” He tilted his head and leaned closer, watching as Jean slowly turned back to him. There was a small smile cast over his face.

“No, ‘Min. I was just being moody.” He gently took the smaller hand and moved it away from his arm. The blush was still on his cheeks.

“You can finish your book if you want.”

Armin shook his head as his hand retracted to his side. “No.”

“Then what?”

If he chose to finish his book, Jean would leave, and he just decided he didn’t want that. Armin tucked back his hair and smiled at the male beside him, then sideglanced the several shops that lined the boardwalk. He could see what appeared to be a _Baskin Robbins_ , though from that distance, it was hard to be certain.

“How do you feel about making an ice cream run with me?” The boy turned back to Jean.

Jean’s whole demeanor brightened. Clearly, he was on-board with the idea. He was already getting to his feet before he responded to Armin’s suggestion.

“I think the guys’ll be pissed if they see us with ice cream.” Jean grinned and grabbed his Adidas slides. “But that’s not gonna stop me.”

“I would hope not.” Armin smiled mischievously. He too stood and fetched his backpack – it held his phone, wallet, water bottle and other necessities –  as well as his flip flops.

The excited smile Jean wore was childish. “Oh God. I’m gonna get gummy bears on mine.” He began to trek through the sand and Armin followed.

“It was always pretty cold in Shiganshina, so I didn’t get ice cream much. But whenever I did, it was always that chocolate almond flavor.” Armin bit back a wince at how _hot_ the sand was beneath his feet.

They ascended the stairs that led to the boardwalk, the journey slower than it would’ve been if they weren’t walking through sand. Armin spotted the _Baskin Robins_ as he was sliding on his shoes and made a start for the entrance, but Jean abruptly stopping made him halt as well.

“Is that a fucking _crane machine_?” The honey-eyed boy seemed completely interested in the machine that was set up near the entrance of the ice cream shop. Armin crossed his arms.

“Really, Jean?” He pouted a little. “I want my ice cream.”

Jean shifted his attention back to the shorter male, though it was visible he wanted to further explore this new discovery. Long fingers came up to ruffle the blond locks crowning Armin’s head.

“Yeah, I know, ‘Min.” Jean found amusement in his pouty attitude. His eyes though – they did return to the crane. Armin was still relishing the fleeting sensation of the other’s hand in his hair.

“What do you want? I’ll get both our ice creams and you can be a child to your heart’s content,” Armin suggested. He thought it might be good to put some distance between them. Fortunately, Jean appeared to agree with his proposal, though he did seem kind of annoyed that Armin had called him a child.

“Deal.” Jean nodded. “Get me two scoops of vanilla on a waffle cone.” He turned his eyes down on the blond and smiled. “And don’t forget the gummy bears.”

Armin resisted the urge to call him _boring_. “I won’t forget.” He started towards the shop but paused when cash was placed into his palm.

“Oh, I was gonna—”

“I got it.”

Armin blinked. He knew he probably should’ve perceived that as a thoughtless kind gesture, but he couldn’t help but think Jean was pitying him. He wanted to angrily declare that he could pay for them – that he _wasn’t_ a charity case – but he chose to hold his tongue.

“Okay, thanks.” Stiffly, Armin closed his hand around the bills and stalked off, not doing so well at masking his upset.

\---

The line at _Baskin Robbins_ was long, but Armin hadn’t expected otherwise. It _was_ an ice cream shop with a close proximity to the beach – others would doubtlessly want something chilled to combat the insanely _hot_ weather.

The boy stood behind a pair of women currently, and they were chatting at a heightened volume about their plans to go bar-hopping that evening. Their loudness nearly inhibited him from hearing his phone’s alert of a new text.

He knew who’s tone it was. With a smile, Armin removed his backpack to retrieve the device. The screen showed a text from Eren messaging the group thread with him and Mikasa.

 

**[SMS from Eren Jaeger: EMA]  
** _Where u at Min??_

Armin read the text, contemplating if he should give him a straight answer. He had a feeling Eren would be irked if he knew he was getting ice cream without him, and with Jean at that.

 

 **[SMS to Eren Jaeger: EMA]**  
_On the boardwalk getting a snack  
And before you ask, yes I’m with Jean._

Armin decided against asking his friends if they wanted anything from _Baskin Robbins_. It’d be too much to carry, and there was no telling if he and Jean would be returning to the beach immediately after.

He kind of hoped they wouldn’t be. The blond tucked away his phone before he had a chance to read Eren’s reply, knowing he’d have some snide commentary about his chose of company.

Armin wondered if Eren’s bitterness towards Jean would disperse once he realized he and Armin were steadily becoming closer as friends. Sure, their time together had been short, but Armin had grown quite fond of _both_ his roommates. He was pretty convinced Jean and Connie felt the same.

Blue eyes briefly looked beyond the glass door to where Jean was at the crane, wiggling the joystick around and trying to acquire some stuffed thing with the claw. He may’ve pissed him off earlier, but the blond couldn’t help but smile. The other had this focused expression on his face like the world would _end_ if he didn’t make the crane machine bend to his will.

It was incredibly amusing – and freaking cute.

Armin adjusted his backpack just as he approached the register. He ordered Jean’s ice cream and some for himself, then handed the cashier the fifteen dollars, accepting the change and the receipt.

 

Jean was still trying to work the crane when he approached his side again, ice creams in hand.

“You know they make those things difficult for a reason, right?” Arnim wanted to start eating, but both Jean’s hands were currently occupied. He shifted his weight onto his other foot. “It’s ‘cause they want to steal your money.”

Jean didn’t look away from the crane. “Yeah, I know. But there’s something I really want.” He cursed loudly when the claw emerged empty-handed from the sea of toys. It was difficult to refrain from laughing a bit.

“Want some help?” He grinned and stepped closer. Jean was already producing coins from his wallet. He looked at Armin and shook his head, smiling exclusively at him.

“I got it. I kick ass at these things.”

“I can see that.” Armin sounded thoroughly amused. He didn’t believe Jean’s words, but he’d let him keep his pride intact for that moment.

“But can you put a move on it? This ice cream’ll melt soon.” Armin put on his sweetest smile, thinking it might cement his suggestion in Jean’s mind.

The taller boy had inserted his four quarters and wrapped his hand around the joystick again. His smile only grew when the claw began to lower itself again.

“Don’t you fret, my dude,” he said to Armin. “I’m gonna get it this time.”

Armin smiled back at him. “I’m sure you will.” He looked down at the ice cream, then at his roommate. “What are you trying to get, anyway?”

When Jean turned to him, something in those hazel depths made Armin’s heart beat just a little faster.

“You’ll see when I get it.”  Confidence _seeped_ from his words.

Armin chuckled. He blinked prettily up at the other male. “I believe in you.”

Jean gave the blond a quick look before his attention settled on the crane. He worked it in concentrated silence. Armin watched, admittedly curious and hopeful Jean would get his money’s worth this time.

A large part of him knew he would.

“Fuck yes!”

The excited exclamation, and a fist pumping into the air, was sufficient confirmation that Jean had won whatever it was he’d been trying to get. A turquoise gaze followed his hands when they moved down to where the toy was to be ejected.

“I knew you could do it, Jean.” Armin inclined closer. He took a few licks of his chocolate almond ice cream.

“I knew too.” A second passed and the toy fell into his hands. Armin was confused, especially when he spied how _pleased_ Jean seemed by it.

It was a tiny plush doll with yellow hair and a white dress, and golden wings protruding from her back. A halo of the same color decorated her head.

Armin studied the toy questioningly. _‘An angel…?’_

“Is this really what you wanted?” He blinked back at Jean after a second. “I don’t get it. It’s just an angel.”

When Jean caught his eyes and smiled, the boy was even more confused.

“What?”

With a large hand, Jean held the toy out to him. “It’s for you, Armin.” He seemed pretty sure of himself until he noticed Armin’s hesitance.

“Y-you know, ‘cause…” Jean suddenly clammed up. “I always say that shit about how you’re an angel and stuff...” He chuckled nervously. “And you seemed mad when I gave you the money so I figured maybe this would cheer you up.”

The way Jean tripped over his words was endearing. Armin started to verbally respond – to say ‘thank you’, among other things – but instead, he shook his head and smiled in return.

“I keep telling you, I’m no angel, Jean…”

Armin wondered if how _meek_ he felt outshined his thankfulness. He met Jean’s eyes again and observed the other boy’s face change slightly into something _softer._

“And about the cash… I’m over that.” Armin gave him his ice cream and took the angel plush into his grasp. He ran his thumb over her face carefully.

“Do you like it?” Jean asked, sounding hopeful. “I know it’s silly, but I thought you would.”

He appeared to relax when the shorter boy nodded and smiled up at him.

“I very much like it. Thank you.” Armin looked at the toy, trying not to read too much into the reason Jean had gotten it for him. He said it was because he was mad, but was that _really_ it? He hoped it was, but he couldn’t say he was completely sure…

Honestly, screw this whole not-getting-close business. It was clear now – Armin was developing a crush at an alarming speed. He looked at the toy again and sucked in a steadying breath. Anything _not_ to look at the handsome youth standing before him.

 _‘This is becoming dangerous,’_ Armin thought silently, opting to distract himself by finishing his ice cream cone. His voice was almost _robotic_ when he told Jean he wanted to return to their spot on the beach, and to their friends. The other boy agreed immediately.

\---

**WEDNESDAY JULY 26 TH: 12:18AM**

_Did I do something wrong?_

It was a question that had overtaken Jean’s mind. Armin wasn’t being discreet – it was apparent something was up with him. His roommate had been acting distant since that afternoon. It sucked that Jean had yet to pinpoint the reason.

 _‘Is he creeped out by me giving him the toy?’_ Jean had to repeatedly remind himself that he hadn’t meant it as anything more than an act of platonic kindness. He’d just seen it and knew it would be perfect for Armin. That was all it was. The fluttering sensation that surfaced when the blond said he liked it was irrelevant.

Now, he observed Armin as he sat upon the forest green loveseat in their suite’s sitting area. Eren was beside him, unsurprisingly., and Annie was on the arm of it. They were close enough that The Squad had been able to sing a happy birthday to Sasha as soon as midnight hit without straining their voices.

It was clear, though: the blond was dissociating himself. Jean tried not to worry about it as he set his eyes on the birthday girl. Sasha was digging into her large slice of the chocolate cake his mother had made special for this day.

Usually, Jean would make some jape at how much the girl was eating, but he’d keep his comments at bay. When it came down to it, Jean knew he cared more about Sasha having a good birthday than choosing to be a dick.

As out-of-character as that was.

“Fuck, we’re out of ice,” Connie groaned, peeing into the small freezer atop the minifridge. “I wanted to make drinks.” He pouted childishly. “It’s long overdue that we get fucked up.”

Krista, who was perched in Mikasa’s lap to save space, spoke up.

“Isn’t it too late to start drinking?”

“It’s never too late for that.” Jean grinned at the small girl.

His grin was mirrored by Sasha, who was licking chocolate icing from her upper lip. “That Peach Amsterdam shouldn’t go to waste. I’m with Connie.”

Jean looked over upon hearing a voice he certainly _hadn’t_ expected to input into the conversation. Armin had a small smile on his lips as he stood from the loveseat.

“I’ll go,” he offered. “To get the ice, I mean. I don’t mind.”

Connie made a praying motion with his hands. “Aw fuck, you’ve saved us.” He exhaled a dramatic sigh.

“If I give you some quarters could you also grab me a Butterfinger from the vending machine?” Krista asked, shifting to sit side-saddle in Mikasa’s lap. The raven girl was messing around on her iPad and appeared to be unbothered by the weight.

“Sure thing, Kris.” Armin hummed his reply. He fetched one of the keycards and tucked it into the back pocket of his shorts. It was anyone’s guess why he was suddenly so _eager_ to be on his own.

“Ice and a Butterfinger, got it.”

Armin left the hotel room a fraction later, and as soon as the door closed, Connie turned a wide smirk on his remaining friends.

“I think we need to have a Squad Talk.”

Eren slipped from the loveseat and parked himself behind Mikasa and Krista. Annie was left by her lonesome, though the solitude hardly seemed to bother her.

“You know, it ain’t really a _Squad Talk_ when we’re missing Armin.” Of course, he was quick to defend his best friend. Jean bit back a scowl, but he’d admit Eren was right. Having a ‘squalk’ (as they sometimes dubbed it) felt strange without Armin, since he was the newest addition.

“Dude, believe me.” Connie shifted his smirk to Eren. “This is much better said when he isn’t here.”

That piqued Jean’s curiosity. He made certain to pay them close mind while helping himself to another slice of Sasha’s cake. His mind was already running through possibilities of what the shorter boy was going to say; Jean had a feeling it was going to piss him off.

“What’s this about?” Mikasa was pointedly interested as well. Her dark eyes narrowed somewhat like she was ready to shift into _‘Ackermom’_ mode at any given moment. Jean was used to witnessing that when Eren did his usual _stupid shit._

Krista straightened from Mikasa’s lap and took her cranberry juice out of the minifridge. Eren went to assist her in twisting off the cap when she displayed her difficulty.

 _‘She is truly a cutie.’_ Jean thought back to a time in their second year o high school. Eren and Mikasa had just transferred in, and Krista hadn’t been shy about her interest in the marble-eyed Jaeger kid.

Unfortunately for her, Eren had been too dense to realize Krista was into him. She ended up finding someone else – which hadn’t been at all difficult. Jean was convinced the majority of Fritz Bishop Prep was smitten with her. Krista’s appeal had never been _gender-specific_.

Jean was curious if now that the distractions of high school were gone, she’d act on her earlier feelings.

_‘Does she plan on getting serious with Ymir?’_

“It ain’t even, like, bad or anything,” Connie clapped a hand on Jean’s shoulder and it promptly brought his thoughts back to the present. He looked up at his friend. It was safe to assume he was involved, then.

 _‘And Armin? Oh God…’_ Honestly, it was anyone’s guess what kind of wildness Connie was about to spurt. He shuddered internally.

The shorter boy continued his smirking. “I just think it’s past time we talk about a certain pair of people that happen to be digging on each other none-too-discreetly.”

At least to Jean, it was plain and clear what he was referencing. Perhaps he was just too hyper-aware of his situation with Armin.  

“Wow, really, Constantine? _Right now?”_

Eren laughed dryly. “Calling him by his government name. Bro, you couldn’t be more obvious.” He dropped a hand down on the table to grab everyone’s attention. “If this is about who I suspect, I wanna be the first to say I _don’t_ approve.”

Jean glared at Eren. “Of course you don’t. And fuck, there ain’t even shit to approve of! Nothing’s going on between Armin and me!”

Krista chuckled around her drink. “I wouldn’t be so quick to say ‘nothing’…”

“Maybe nothing super serious,” Sasha said. Jean had the stupid hope that maybe she might defend him. “but there are sparks. He wants you, dude.”  She placed a mockingly comforting hand on his arm.

Jean shook it away and grunted a low, “fuck off”.

Then, Mikasa caught Jean in this intense exchange of eyes that he immediately wanted to look away from.

“I have no oppositions to this. Despite what Eren may say, there is a living breathing human under that rough exterior. We know you’re a kind person, Jean.”

Was she giving him her blessing? Jean shook his head. Mikasa always tended to get a tinge more serious than the situation called for.

It grated on his nerves that his friends had already decided shit had hatched between him and Armin when it most definitely _had not._

“You guys are overreacting,” grumbled Jean, his expression sour. He felt hopelessly ganged up on. He was thankful Annie was too preoccupied with an iPhone game to pay them any mind. Not that she would have much to say otherwise.

“Can’t two people do some harmless flirting without all this extra bullshit?” Perhaps Jean should’ve been more tactful in his phrasing, but the words tumbled out before he could think.  He anticipated the worst.

“So you admit it is indeed flirting.” Sasha’s smirk greatly resembled her boyfriend’s. When Connie opened his mouth, she readily fed him a forkful of cake and popped a kiss on his forehead.

“Jean’s right, guys. I think we’re reading too much into this.” Eren might’ve been a bit too eager to iterate that there was nothing going on. Jean was thankful, though.

“Armin hasn’t said shit to me about wanting to ride that horse.”

Everyone laughed except for Jean, who kept his viperous expression. He looked at his Apple Watch to gauge exactly how long it’d been since Armin had gone on his ice-and-snack run. Not that long, but the possibility that he might return any moment was still looming.

_‘I should’ve gone with you, ‘Min.’_

“Jeanny, you know we just want what’s best for you.” There was a genial smile painted over Connie’s face then, but it was not well-received. Eyes merrowing, Jean abruptly pushed himself from the table.

“Maybe what’s best for me is for everyone to get off my back,” he fumed. “Who I like, if I like anyone, is _my_ fucking business!”

He made a spectacle of storming through the living room and slamming the metal door on his way out of the suite.

_‘I need some fucking air.’_

Only in the hall did the realization hit him. He’d not thought to bring a keycard.

‘ _Well shit,’_ Jean thought bitterly. He was firmly against going back in there. He had a feeling someone would come out to fetch him, and if not, his only remaining option was to sit and wait for Armin’s return. That sounded much more appealing.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was long, whoops.  
> And okay, Jean, your friends are just trying to hook you up with the cute little blond kid. Well except Eren, but when is he ever team Jearmin?  
> As always, thank you for reading! I always appreciate commentary... like more than anything.


	8. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of cute Jearmins in this chapter.

**THURSDAY JULY 27 TH: 5:10PM**

“Mmm, those looks good...” Armin’s eyes followed the platter of quesadillas as it was lowered onto the wooden surface of the table.

Getting steak quesadillas as an appetizer seemed to have been a good choice. Excitedly, the blond grabbed a saucer and immediately reached for two.

“Christ, Armin.” Eren chuckled and bumped his knee beneath the table. “There  _is_  a thing called patience, y’know.”

“I only ate once today.” Armin pouted, but didn’t return the food to the platter.

“Let him be,” Connie said from his seat across the table. He was grinning. “Armin needs as much nourishment as possible.”

Jean snorted. “Shut up, Connie. You’re fucking tiny too.”  He smacked his friend on his buzzed head. Connie winced, but still flexed his arm to make a point.

“I may be short but I’m muscular.”

“Pfft, barely.” Jean shook his head and laughed. He looked back to the laminated page of his menu and Connie sipped his iced tea.

The restaurant they were currently visiting had been spotted during The Squad’s scour of the boardwalk earlier that day. It was a local everything-joint by the name of “KB Grill”, complete with its own salad and buffet bars. Jean didn’t trust buffets, though. To quote him verbatim, “I don’t want people breathing on my food. That’s fuckin’ gross.”

At that, Connie had just laughed and commented on how he’d always been that way. Armin whined on about how he considered buffets to be luxuries, but Eren’s offer to treat him shut that right up.

 

“Are you guys ready to order?” The voice of their waiter rang in Armin’s ears. He looked up into dark brown eyes and then around to the other occupants of the table.

“Are we?”

Jean looked once more to his menu before he nodded. Connie was the first to order. As he spoke, Armin noticed his phone going off with an alert of a new text message. He plucked it off the table and peered at the screen.

 

 **[SMS from Mikasa Ackerman]**  
_I’m picking up some skincare items from this spa. Anything specific you want?_

 

Armin smiled, his head tilting as he pondered Mikasa’s question.

As a birthday present, Sasha’s mother surprised her daughter with a reservation at some luxurious day spa not far from the hotel they were staying at. She purchased openings for the other girls as well, so Armin, Connie, Eren and Jean were left to their own devides for the time being.

Mikasa had specifically told Armin to keep an eye out and ensure Jean and Eren wouldn’t kill each other. Armin just giggled at that and reminded her just how  _dramatic_  she could be.

 

 **[SMS to Mikasa Ackerman]**  
_Any kind toner mist or maybe some essence? (o^^)o_

_I’ll pay you back btw!_

**[SMS from Mikasa Ackerman]**   **_  
_**_No need._

Armin frowned. A moment later and he’d half-composed a reply insisting to Mikasa that he was going to pay her back regardless, but then, a hand touched his arm. He looked up.

“Hello? What are you gonna get?”

Everyone at the table was eyeing him expectantly. The waiter, a tall, Asian man, had already jotted the other boys’ orders and was waiting on him.

“O-Oh, sorry, um—” Armin swallowed, his eyes miring on their waiter. His nametag read “Johnny”. “I’ll have a baked potato and a side of macaroni and cheese, please.”

Johnny took a second to write down what he said, then the four of them handed him their menus.

“Your food should be here shortly,” he said, his tone amiable.

Armin smiled and thanked him. The man jogged off towards a pair of doors that Armin assumed led to the kitchen.

A look of longing passed Eren’s face as he huffed. “Damn, I’m craving mozzarella sticks suddenly…”

“We just got a whole platter of quesadillas.” Connie chuckled.

Armin sipped his mountain dew, then turned smiling eyes on the male at his side. “Why don’t you go hit the buffet?” he suggested. “It is all you can eat.” Armin picked up one of the quesadillas on his plate and took a bite, savoring the delectable taste.

“Besides, the more quesadillas for me to eat the better.”

Laughing some, Eren glanced over his shoulder to the buffet bar a little ways away from their booth. It seemed as if something else caught his eye other than the food, though, because after a second, he was awestruck.

“Shit, is that  _Ms. Ral?”_ Eren’s eyes grew wide.

_‘Who’s…?’_

“Ms. Ral?” both Connie and Jean said in unison, their gazes jerking in the direction Eren was looking.

Sheer curiosity provoked Armin to do the same. What he saw was a petite woman with strawberry blond hair cut short. She was dressed in an a-line dress and pearls, like she was about to attend some fancy soiree in Stohess or something.

It didn’t seem  _too_ uncharacteristic that they’d know someone like that. A wave of self-consciousness swept over Armin’s entire being.

“Hey, Ms. Ral!” Eren beckoned her over. The woman met his eyes and a smile formed on red lips. She did her best to speed-walk towards them in the pumps she wore.

“Eren, Connie, Jean!” Her hand rested on her chest as she let out a breath of surprise. “How unexpected to see you boys here! Hello!”

Armin blinked, once again feeling left out of the loop. How the hell did they manage to know someone  _everywhere_ they went? It was unreal, and a little off-putting. He knew it wasn’t their intent to exclude him, but  it happened more often than not.

The blond gave an inward huff and returned his attention to his phone, opting  to respond to Mikasa’s text as not to appear too miserable.

 

 **[SMS to Mikasa Ackerman]**  
_I’m paying you back so hush._  
  
_Also I don’t mean to impose on your fun but can we chat for a bit?_

_I’m suddenly feeling lonely…_

**[SMS from Mikasa Ackerman]**   _  
What’s wrong?_

_They didn’t go somewhere and leave you alone did they? – n –_

Armin smiled and chewed on his sinner cheek The speed in which her response came in made him feel valuable.

 

 **[SMS to Mikasa Ackerman]**  
_Nothing like that! We’re out eating and they ran into someone they know so needless to say I’m not enjoying myself rn_

 

Armin decided to look up and see if the woman had left. She hadn’t. She’d parked herself beside Connie on the other side of the booth. That bench was  _not_  meant for three people.

“This is Armin, my pseudo brother,” he heard Eren say, a smile in his voice. Armin forced one of his own to his lips.

“He’s also me and Connie’s roommate,” Jean added. Was that _pride_  he heard in his voice?

The woman extended her arm. “Hi Armin! I’m Petra Ral. I was their gym coach in high school,” she clarified.

 _‘Ah, that explains it_.’ Armin had been wondering why they were so well-acquainted with a woman who was clearly much older than they were. If Armin had to guess, he’d say Petra was pehaps in her late-twenties.

“Hello,” Armin greeted, giving her hand a gentle shake, “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Armin.” The woman was grinning as she brought her hand back. “And please, call me Petra. You all are allowed, you know.” She folded her arms atop the table. “You boys  _are_  alumni.”

Jean bit into his quesadilla and snorted. “That makes us sound old. You do know we’re not twenty yet, right?”

Petra peered across the table at her former student. “Are you implying that  _I’m_  old, Jean?”

“Ignore Horsey over here.” Eren rolled his blue-green eyes. “You’re still really pretty for your age, Ms. Ra— I mean, Petra.” His cheeks reddened a bit as he spoke.

“For my age.” Petra repeated the last part of his statement with a shake of her head. “Thank you, Eren. You were always the best-behaved, weren’t you?” She smiled. “Well… when you and Jean weren’t trying to gouge each other’s eyes out, at least.”

Armin laughed a little and turned his eyes back on his phone. Unfortunately, Mikasa had yet to reply.

“Oi, Petra.”

An unfamiliar voice caused him to peer up. A man stood at their table now, but it wasn’t the waiter, and his attire did not say “employee”. He was clad in a crisp button-down and slacks. Armin could see the distinct Versace logo on his belt-buckle. 

_‘Is everyone here loaded or something? Christ...’_

Studying him further, the boy came to an abrupt realization, but he wasn’t entirely sure of his thoughts.

 _‘I’ve seen him before.’_ He knew that much. _‘Is that…?’_

“Oh, Levi.” Petra instantly rose up.Armin glanced at Eren, silently seeking confirmation. The expression he wore did a good job of that; Eren stared dumbly at the older male, his eyes wide.

“Hello, Eren.” Levi tilted his head in acknowledgement, then carried steely eyes to Armin. “You’re Armin, yes?”

Armin was genuinely stunned he remembered his name from that single meeting they had. The boy nodded and donned a small smile.

“Yes, that’s right, Mr. Levi.”

Petra looked between them in visible disbelief.

 “You guys... know each other?” She blinked.

Eren appeared to be having a bit of trouble grasping the situation himself. “He’s Mikasa’s cousin,” he stated.

The words roused Jean and Connie’s attention. Both boys inclined forward in their seats.

“Mikasa?” Jean gaped.

Petra turned to face Levi. “Wait, Mikasa Ackerma—oh, your last names…” She seemed to suddenly realize the truth in this revelation. “She was one of my students. How odd.”

Levi, however, retained his composure. He tucked his hands into his pockets and let a cursory glance drag over each occupant of the table, before his eyes finally settled back on Eren, then he looked to Petra.

“I wasn’t aware of it myself until some months ago.” He sighed, clearly bored. “Anyway, Petra, we’re going to be late. I’m going to grab a salad. Wait in the car for me?”

“Y-yeah, sure…” Petra nodded and watched for a moment when he turned and started off in the opposite direction. Armin checked for a reply from Mikasa and saw nothing.

 _‘Clearly I_ am _imposing on her fun.’_

“So like, are you and that guy an item, Ms. Ral?” Connie asked, his eyes moving back to Petra.

Petra seemed slightly unnerved by his question. Her head shook vehemently. “Oh God, no! Levi’s… Well, he’s kind of like an older brother to me, I guess. It’s been that way since we were in school.” She smiled. “And he worked under my father when he was in the military.”

Eren raised both his eyebrows. “Wait, the military? Mikasa never mentioned that.”

Petra nodded, her smile broadening. “Yep! He enlisted straight out of high school.”

The entire table lapsed into silence like her words had triggered something. Eren, Jean and Connie all stiffened, though Jean easily appeared the most  _perturbed._  Armin was left utterly clueless yet again. 

_‘What’s going on?’_

Oceanic eyes scanned each of his friends’ dispositions. Eren and Connie both looked a little uncomfortable, while Jean just seemed... melancholy. He noticed a slight quake in his fingers, too.

Armin wanted to ask what was wrong, but something told him it wasn’t a topic he’d want to discuss right now – not with their former teacher here.

“Anyway,” Either Petra was oblivious to the shift in mood, or she just wasn’t going to speak on it.  “I should be going, boys. Levi and I have somewhere to be.”

Connie let out a playful whimper. “Leaving so soon?” Eren’s spirits seemed to lift as well. But when Armin turned back to Jean, it was evident he was still troubled by whatever had just occurred. Armin was overcome with the strangest urge to reach for his hand.

“Sadly.” Petra leaned in and took a moment to ruffle each boy on the head, then stood upright again.

“Until next time!”

Eren, Connie and Armin waved. Jean regarded the woman with a nod.

When she was gone, Connie chuckled and said, “Damn, she definitely is still smokin’ hot.”

“Is that all you think about?” Eren shook his head and laughed.

Jean’s eyelids finally lifted from their lidded position and he took a few sips of his soda. “Can’t believe cute little Ms. Ral is friends with such a creepy guy.” He tilted his head. “And someone who’s related to Mikasa, at that. Small world.”

Armin collected his phone off his table and unlocked it with finger recognition. He immediately opened his messaging app, starting to compose a text in an already-existing thread.

 

 **[IMessage to Jean Kirschstein]**  
_So… what was that? You okay?_

 

He followed the message with a few emojis and sent it. Jean’s watch went off an instant later. He checked the notification and then flickered his eyes back to the boy across from him.

It was impressive how well he typed into his watch. Armin looked at his screen and saw the grey text bubble.

 

 **[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**  
_We’ll talk later. Promise._

 

He would hold him to that.

\---

**FRIDAY JULY 28 TH: 3:02AM**

Arms folded over the balcony’s railing, Armin gazed down at the empty beach stories below.

Twilight had pulled in the tide. He knew others would deem that as dangerous, but watching the waves was calming to him. It was what he needed, when his mind was running a mile a minute.

His thoughts kept drifting back to earlier, when they’d all been at the grill. Jean left prematurely under the guise of a headache. Armin could see the transparency in that façade.

Something else was bothering him. He didn’t vocalize his concern only because he was still counting on that talk.

Unfortunately, Jean had been asleep when he and Eren retired to their suite. Armin spent the following hours worrying _insanely._

_‘But… why do I even care so much?’_

It’d been just shy of two months since that chance encounter in _Chipotle_. Armin may not have liked admitting it, but he cared for Jean in a way that wasn’t _completely_ friendly.

Mostly it was, but there was something lingering in the back of his mind that led him to think about that handsome French boy more than he probably should.

 _‘I… I have feelings for him…’_  It was a horribly immature and teenager-y thought.

The blond sighed heavily and brushed slim fingers over his temple. His past self was likely disappointed in him for developing such things when he was supposed to be focusing on school.

But there was still a month before classes began, and a lot could happen in a month. Perhaps Armin would just submerge himself in his preparations and  _not_ have any social contact.

It’d be like high school all over again.

“Armin?”

Armin knew who it was without looking, but he still turned to face the taller youth that stood in the sliding doorway.

Jean’s bedraggled appearance gave the impression that he’d only just woken up; the sandy locks on his head were in disarray and there were wrinkles in his t-shirt and box—Oh, he’s only wearing boxers…

The blond dashed his eyes away, uncertain if he could keep from peeping.

 _‘I am so gross.’_ He began to worry his lip for a second.

“Oh, hey, you’re awake.” When he looked back, a small titter of laughter left him. “This is an odd hour to wake up. But then, you  _were_  out for a while, so I guess…” He tucked back some windblown hair. “How did you sleep? Feeling any better?”

Jean didn’t move any closer to him. He remained in the doorway and rested his hand on the side, long fingers pushing into his hair.

“Eh, I slept fine. And yeah, I think I just needed to sleep some things off.” The implication in his statement was curious.

“Why are  _you_ awake?” He looked accusatory and Armin thought he saw some concern, too.

_‘Don’t you know already?’_

“You know I’m nocturnal.” His grin was rueful. “And honestly, I’d much rather choose to be awake than be kept up by nightmares.” It may’ve been a morbid thing to say, but it was the truth. Armin observed the frown form on Jean’s lips and he stepped closer.

“But hey,” His grin fell into a warm, disarming smile. “At least you’ve got me to keep you company now, right? I’d say we both lucked out.”

Jean lost the battle of fighting off a smile. “I guess you’re right. Sorry I was napping for so long. Must’ve been hella annoying to try and keep from disturbing me for all those hours, huh?”

Armin shook his head. He sat on one of the chairs on the balcony and gestured for Jean to do the same. He did.

“I didn’t mind. You needed your rest,” Armin said with a shrug. “I spent the majority of the time in the girls’ room, actually.”

Jean was leaning his bent arms on his thighs. He seemed unbothered that boxers were the only thing he wore on his lower half.

_‘We’re both guys, so technically he shouldn’t, but...’_

But Jean had apologized that one time he wasn’t wearing a shirt and Armin came into the kitchen. The blond had to bite into his bottom lip to hold down his blush.

_‘God, having a crush really is stressful. I can do without all this.’_

“I didn’t forget about the talk we were supposed to have. I swear,” Jean said suddenly. Armin would like to say _he’d_ forgotten, but he hadn’t. It was on his queue of thing to bring up.

Armin settled blue eyes on his face. There was something particularly magical about the way the moonlight illuminated the aristocratic features. He hoped he was discreet in the way he stared.

“I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up.” Abruptly, Armin looked back ahead of them. “I didn’t wanna pressure you, but you did promise.” He was sure to add that last bit in case Jean had forgotten.

“Yeah, I know I did. It’s not really that big of a deal come to think. It just bothered me at the time.” He breathed a sigh.

 _‘If it wasn’t that big of a deal, you would’ve told me earlier.’_  Armin was silent, unsure of what he should say – or if he should say anything. He chose not to.

There was a noticeable pause (maybe it was hesitance) before Jean started speaking.

“Ms. Ral talking about how Levi was in the military…” He cast his gaze downward.  “It was really… distressing to hear.”

Armin peeked at Jean out of the corner of his eye. “I noticed.”

“It reminded me of something. That was all.” And then, Jean didn’t speak for a moment. “I … Well, the person I was seeing… He kinda left me to go into the military.”

Jean looked as if he was still confused about what he was saying. “Why am I saying ‘kinda’? That’s definitely what happened. Anyway,” He breathed deeply. “yeah, he fucking  _left me_  at the end of May. The wounds are still fresh, so hearing about him hurts.”

“Oh” was all Armin could think to say to that. Jean made no indications that he was dealing with this over the past month and change, and he would commend him for that. But it was still upsetting knowledge.

“I see…” Armin was wary of asking more, but there was some information he needed.

“So, um, how long were you and this person together for?”

A humorless laugh rose from Jean’s lips then. “Eh, that’s up for interpretation. He wasn’t really… out. As bisexual. We dated in secret ‘cause he was ashamed of being with me I guess.” It was evident he was still upset over this. “We hooked up for the first time last October and we kinda just… Yeah.” He was looking down at the balcony’s floor. “I’d say that was the start of it, so… Seven months?”

Armin’s eyes widened somewhat. Seven months. That was an absurdly  _long time_  to be dating someone in secret.

“There was never any label put on what we were,” Jean continued. “I don’t even know if we _were_ anything. But… when he enlisted in the military, he asked me to wait for him.”

His head sunk into his hands. “Everything is really fucking confusing, ‘Min. My friends were the only people that knew about us and they all think we cut ties. They’d be so disappointed if they knew. Honestly,  _I’m_  disappointed in myself. I feel pitiful that I still believe in him. But I do.”

Armin took a second to process everything, and then he quietly said, “You love him.”

It hurt a little to say it. He’d always thought Jean was safe, uncomplicated. But he was laden with unresolved feelings. He was clearly still in love with this guy.

Armin knew he should be rejoicing (here was a tangible excuse to rid himself of this stupid, shallow crush), but he felt ridiculously jealous, and betrayed, somehow.

“I wish it was that simple.” Jean sounded more angry than sad. “Yeah, I think love him. But these days, we hardly ever speak and I’m starting to see things differently.”

Armin swiped his tongue over his lips.  _‘They still talk?’_ It was as if his roommate was leading a life that Armin had no idea of and was excluded from entirely.

Small fingers curled into a fist. He kept his eyes on the sky and saw clouds covering the moon in a gradual motion, making it significantly darker.

It was probably better that Jean  _couldn’t_  see Armin’s distraught expression.

“Maybe it’s best if you severe ties with him,” Armin finally said, wondering if the delay in his response was something Jean noticed. “Or at least break things off. Does he know you’re feeling this way?”

The taller boy shrugged, seeming genuinely flummoxed. “I don’t know. I’d like to think maybe he has some idea but…” He sucked in a sharp breath.

“I know I should talk to him about it.”

The look Jean wore was uncharacteristic. For the first time, he exhibited vulnerability. Fear, even. 

_‘This guy must really mean a lot to him.’_

“Let’s… put a pin in this, huh?” Armin had a feeling that was probably what Jean wanted. He smiled weakly as his hand came up to rest on his arm.

“We don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to.”

Jean wordlessly stared at the other male for a while, then he sighed. Just as he began speaking again, the clouds started to expel a few raindrops.

“It’s not that I don’t wanna talk about it.” Jean lowered his voice, abashed. “It’s just… I know you probably think I’m a fucking idiot.”

“…I don’t,” Armin assured gently, despite how dismayed he might’ve been feeling.

“I think you’re in love with someone that treats you like crap from what I’ve heard, and you’re confused. It’s okay.”

Safe beneath the awning, Armin watched the railing gather with droplets falling from the sky. He slightly squeezed Jean’s arm before letting go. His roommate let out another sigh.

 “Let’s go inside.”

Armin nodded. “Yeah, let’s.”

They got up together and passed through the threshold into the bedroom of their suite. Jean jumped onto his bed once they were inside. There was a definite jostle of something in his boxers that Armin tried not to notice.

_‘Jesus. Was that his dick?’_

“I’m not really tired but it’s okay if you are.” Jean unplugged his phone and took it off the night table.

“No, I’m not.” Armin donned a smile. “Hey, wanna do something? I’m like ninety percent sure Steve Wilkos is on right now.” His feet carried him over to the television mounted on the wall. “Or we could see what’s on Adult Swim.”

Jean stretched out and swiped his fingers over the screen of his iPhone. He turned the front camera on himself and smirked into the lens, snapping a few shots. Then, he looked up to the blond.

“C’mere. Let’s take a selfie.”

Armin chuckled, his eyes rolling as he fetched the remote from the console table beneath the TV.

“You weren’t listening to me at all, were you?” Still, he shuffled over, lowering onto Jean’s bed and leaning in so he was in the line of his camera.

“Let’s see about Adult Swim,” Jean suggested, his mouth curling into a dashing smile that made Armin’s stomach flip. Phone still turned, Jean tipped his head and Armin did the same in the other direction. His lips were closed while Jean smiled toothily.

The proximity allowed him a whiff of the other boy’s scent; He smelled predominately of sandalwood, though there was a distinct undertone of those ridiculously expensive cucumber soaps he liked to use. The combination enticed Armin’s senses.

“What are you doing with that?” Armin’s eyes met Jean’s, then he flicked his gaze down to his phone. The boy beside him on the bed laughed.

“I’ll probably put it on Instagram,” he told him.

The shot was cute, but Armin knew he’d have to endure endless teasing from Eren (and probably Connie, too) once he saw it.

“I was just thinking… I don’t have enough pictures of us together on my phone.” Jean didn’t move away after the picture was taken.

The comment, and the closeness, made Armin bashful. “You have that one from Karaoke Night, don’t you?”

“That was  _ages_  ago.” Jean chuckled. “I need something more updated.”

Armin chuckled along with him. “It wasn’t even that long ago.” He pressed the ‘power’ button on the remote.

“Feels like it. So much has happened.”

Armin’s lips parted to reply to that, but a sudden noise made them both jump. A clap of thunder boomed in from the window and Jean’s whole body jolted on the bed.

“Shit.” His shoulders stiffened.

The abrupt movement once again made Armin aware that Jean was only clad in boxers and a t-shirt, and they were both on his bed with not a lot of distance between them.

Armin could only guess his roommate was as affected by this as he was.

He glanced to the window and saw the rain pattering on the sill. It was pitch black outside, too.

“Of all the times for it to storm,” Jean grumbled. Armin continued to stare out of the window, his lip wedging between his teeth.

“Let’s hope this doesn’t last.”

\---

**FRIDAY JULY 28 TH: 6:13PM**

That gentle thunderstorm escalated into the prelude to a hurricane, according to the weather channel.

The winds kicked up violently, and the rain grew heavier the more time spent at the beach, it seemed. There was reluctance, but the decision was eventually made to go home a day earlier than planned.

 

By the time Sasha dropped everyone off that evening, the rain only grew more violent. Connie wasn’t up for letting his girlfriend drive home in that mess, and it didn’t take much convincing for her to stay at their place for the night.

A few hours later, the four of them were lazily spread out in the living room of the apartment, half-watching Shrek and half falling asleep on the blankets laid out on the floor.

 

Armin abruptly sat up with a thought before he dozed. He vaguely recalled Jean saying something about a letter for him, and that it had looked important. Armin assumed it was from school – there was no other explanation he could think of. The boy scooted towards the spill of mail that covered the coffee table.

He sifted through a large amount of junk mail before stumbling on something that definitely stood out. It was an envelope addressed to him, from… the Shiganshina Penitentiary.

Armin’s heart dropped into his stomach. He knew instantly who it was, and that knowledge disquieted him.

 _‘Why is he sending me things_ now?’

Making careful certainty not to disturb the others (they were probably on the verge of nodding off anyway), Armin rose and shuffled off to his room.

His heart thumped  _wildly_  as he searched for a reason  _he_  might want to contact him. Nothing came. They’d not spoken for at least a year, and even when they  _were_  in contact, Armin wouldn’t say they were on the best of terms…

_‘God, what even?’_

On socked feet, he entered his room and sat on his bed. Uncharted moments passed of him just  _staring_ at the envelope, his breath slow, labored exhales. Armin had to dig nails into his thigh to relieve the trepidation.

_‘Breathe, Armin.’_

Tentatively, he pulled back the flap with his finger. The paper inside was folded into three, and it seemed… long.

_‘What could he possibly want with me? I don’t get it…’_

The blond’s eyes squeezed shut for a second, trying to calm himself again, but it was useless. His pulse was _afire_ , an it felt as if each nerve-ending on his body was electrified with a deafening bout of fear.

His fingers shook when unfolding the paper. As he read the first line, that fear morphed into a spike of dread.

_Mr. Armin Arlert, this letter has been sent to inform you that inmate Kurt Arlert (ID Number 4430581) has taken his own life at 17:40 on Wednesday, July 19 th2017._

The paper fell from his hands as if it had burned him.

_‘Oh… my God…’_

Sudden, innumerable emotions whirred through him at such speed that he was unable to process them all. The shaking in his fingers had spread to his entire body, then. Armin kicked the letter to the side. He physically _couldn’t_ read the rest.

_‘He took his own life? How could he? What would have provoked him to do it?’_

He knew he should be elated at the news. _His abuser was gone._ But that was not what Armin was experiencing. The forgiving and  _idiotic_ part of him actually felt like he was on the verge of heaving.

That man had done some _unspeakable_ things for sure, but he was still his father, and Armin still felt anguish wash over him as he relayed the words of the letter in his mind.

_‘He’s gone. He’s really… gone.’_

He wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty. There was no way he could. In all the times they’d spoken, Kurt had just seemed detached and dissociative, never contrite.

At the time, it had _infuriated_ Armin to the point of nearly striking him through the glass window. But he’d always refrained; He told himself he was visiting Kurt out of simple courtesy.

_Courtesy he never deserved._

And that was when the tears came, like a dam breaking inside of him. Armin didn’t know why he was crying, exactly. His abuser was gone, but the man was his father, and it _hurt._

It was astonishing that he could managed loss after everything. Among those feelings, though, the boy was angry. Kurt never did proper penance for all those years of turmoil, and now he never would.

Light sobs morphed into heavy bawls. Somewhere in his mind, Armin knew the volume could possibly disturb the others, but he didn’t care.

The thought seemed so minute next to everything else he was feeling. His despair was _uncontrollable._

The boy dropped onto his side on the mattress and tucked his knees, curling in on himself. At that moment, he wanted to shut out the world. He did his best to ignore the banging on his door, and Jean’s muffled inquiry if he was alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some things to say. Firstly, yes, we finally know what the letter was about (and maybe an idea of what Armin’s dad did)! How do you think Armin will react to it? Who knows, really. (I do.)  
> Also okay I SO did not plan for Jean to tell Armin about Marco in this chapter. it just sorta happened. Though I’m not upset about it. It’s more grounds for them to grow closer, right? Armin wen full-on Scorpio mode. We really are kindred spirits, lol. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! I love and appreciate you all.  
> \- - -  
> So I'm revisiting end editing old chapters and ahh... I still have a soft spot for chapter 8.


	9. Until Tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! A bit of a timeskip has happened. This chapter is bout to be super plot-heavy and I’m excited to write it e u e Also as a warning: Jean smokes up some weed at one part.

**SATURDAY AUGUST 11 TH: 11:39AM**

Jean swam his spoon through his Fruity Pebbles and sighed. His eyes plastered to the wall next to the fridge. He was tired –  _exhausted_ , really – but sleep hadn’t been an easy feat for him as of recent days.

Jean’s nights were lately spent staring at the ceiling and worrying  _insanely_ over a certain blond roommate that seemed to have poofed into thin air.

Tucked under a magnet on the fridge was a letter from said roommate. It had been posted there two weeks before, and Jean was sure he’d memorized it. But still, reading the damned thing caused a _cataclysmic_ tug on his heart.

_Dear Jean and Connie,_

_A family emergency suddenly came up. I need to stay somewhere else for a little while. Eren and Mikasa are with me, so please don’t worry. I’ll be back in a few days!_

_\- Armin_

  
“A few days”, he’d said. That had not been the truth. A few days after that, Jean had been stupidly hopeful he would indeed return when he said; he’d take three or four days for himself and then everything would revert to normalcy. But then, “a few days” stretched on to a week, and then more days passed by.

Now, it had been fourteen days since Armin left, and Jean was on the verge of losing it.

What was the most upsetting was the very potent memory of shaking sobs, and Armin’s choked voice telling him he needed to be alone through the door. It was the equivalent of Chinese water-torture not knowing what had caused that episode. He wanted to help. He wanted to  _be there_ for him, because despite his deeper feelings, they were friends and Jean _cared_  about him.

It didn't help anything that he’d been unable to contact Armin for the duration of this mess. Jean had left him countless voicemails and sent a billion texts. All of which were ignored.

He’d even tried getting a hold of him through Eren and Mikasa, which proved to be equally as futile. They’d answer the phone, say something like “He’s fine, give him time”, and then hang up.

All Jean wanted was to hear Armin’s voice again, or at least to have some firsthand assurance that he was okay.

 

Sighing, Jean carried his near-full bowl to the sink. He dumped the cereal down the garbage disposal, knowing he was being wasteful, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He placed his bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and moved lethargically through the apartment to his room.

He really needed to do something that would take his mind off his missing roommate. Jean saw that his MacBook was open on his desk and his drawing tablet was plugged into the USB port.

_‘I guess I could finish that piece…’_

One of his Tumblr followers had commissioned some _Game of Thrones_ fanart. Usually, he’d be completely invested in finishing the half-drawn picture, but now he couldn’t find the muse. That was frustrating. Art had been therapeutic to him. He must’ve been really fucked up to not want to do at least that.

_‘He’s a guy I just met. I should not be this out of it just ‘cause we haven’t spoken.’_

But Jean knew he was, and he needed to chill out. The silver vape pen he’d picked up from a weed event the day before sat alluring on his dresser.

Jean crossed the room immediately and made to grab it. He pressed the button on the side and took a long hit. A plume of smoke expelled his lips as he dropped into his desk chair.

Jean didn’t smoke often. He could do without all the wild journeys his mind tended to go on whenever he was high, but vaping was good when he needed something light to mellow him out and soothe his woes.

He sat the pen down beside his laptop after a few moments, then brushed his fingers over the touchpad to light the screen. The interface of Skype greeted him. Jean went to scan his contact list.

Sasha, Annie, Reiner… He felt something unpleasant surface at the sight of Marco’s username. Jean quickly looked beneath it and was sure he _lost his breath._

There was an ‘away’ symbol next to Armin’s username, but he was  _logged in_. That was confirmation that the boy was actually alive. Relief broke onto Jean’s face as he opened their chat. He started typing immediately.

 

 **kirschboi:**  armin?

 

Jean was overcome with an intense need to speak to Armin right then. It was all his mind could process, and when the little pen at the bottom of the chat began to move (after a seventeen-second wait), Jean nearly lost it a second time.

\----

 **arminty:** Hi, Jean.

 

Armin stared at his response, feeling several emotions about why he shouldn’t have written it. He shouldn’t have written anything, really; it wasn’t safe for them to exchange these words, even if they were innocent.

Armin brought up his hand and bit into the pad of his thumb.

 

 **kirschboi:** are you ok? jesus… i’ve been trying to reach you for ages.

 **kirschboi:** sorry if im bothering but im so fucking worried armin

 **kirschboi:** pls tell me you’re ok..

 

The last message came in about ten seconds after the first two. As usual, Jean was impatient, but he was also being  _so sweet_. Armin had to sigh as his hands retracted from the keyboard.

He’d admit he had ample time to mourn his father’s passing, though, considering the circumstances, he probably shouldn’t call it ‘mourning’.

It was more accepting what happened and trying to cope. But now, he was caught in a different predicament entirely. Armin couldn’t talk to Jean when his shoulders felt so _heavy._ He wouldn’t allow himself to be a burden.

Long minutes passed before Armin felt inclined to type again. He’d do his best to seem okay, but also convey to Jean that he just…  _couldn’t_ talk to him, as much as it pained him.

 

 **arminty:** I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. And for not talking to you for so long….

 **arminty:** But please understand that I’m going through a really tough time right now and it’s hard for me to be around people that aren’t my immediate family.

 

Armin hung his head for a while.

 

 **arminty:** I’m sorry, Jean.

He almost tacked on an ‘I miss you’, but he managed to hold back. It really was impressive that his roommate was able to have this effect on him even now.

Armin knew he needed to regain control over this situation. He signed out before Jean had a chance to reply, and then there was a sudden, intense heaviness in his chest. Armin propped his elbows on the desk and cradled his head in his palms.

 

It happened two days after he was notified of Kurt’s death. Armin had gone to stay with the Jaegers and Eren and Mikasa traveled with him to the Shiganshina prison to pick up the things fetched from his father’s cell. It hadn’t been much; just some old books and random novelties, but he needed the moral support. Eren had suggested he burn them straight away, but of course, Armin had refused.

The commute, and the actual process, had taken up most of the day. They were overdue for a meal by the time it was all over. Luckily, Mikasa spotted the diner the three of them frequented during their younger years.

The memory of what happened there was still fresh in Armin’s mind.

\---

‘Is that…?’

  _Armin didn’t notice his fork slipping from his fingers until he heard the sharp clatter, and Eren’s question if he was alright. He’d wanted to respond, but no words would form when his lips parted._

_Armin craned his neck, peering to see if the one that had caught his eye was indeed whom he thought. A bout of fear licked at Armin’s insides and his eyes snapped wide. In realization._

‘This can’t be…’

_Dimly, he recognized the dark bobbed hair and gentle eyes of the woman at the other end of the diner. All the air left the room at once. Armin knew he would’ve fallen from his seat if not for Mikasa gripping his arm._

_“What is it?” The concern in her tone was palpable._

_Armin’s entire frame went rigid. “That’s…”  It was as if cement was drying on his tongue when he turned back to the table. “My… My mother…” he announced unsurely. “She’s sitting over there.” He spoke around abnormal calmness._

_His mother, Nifa Lange. She was sat there, placidly eating her burger with a demeanor so_ carefree _it disturbed him._

 _It was unfathomable that she was able to appear as such during_ all this _. It was as if Kurt hanging himself in his cell hadn’t at all affected her— as if the_ reason _for his imprisonment seven years before hadn’t been a direct cause of her leaving them._

 _He couldn’t conjure a reason for her presence. Perhaps she wanted to pay her respects? Or, maybe, she’d come for Armin’s sake…  but the latter possibility had some flaws. He refused to entertain the concept of her returning after_ all this time, _just ready to resume her duties as if nothing happened._

_He wouldn’t accept that. There had to be another reason._

_“Your mother?” Eren stared at Armin, his expression equal parts shock and puzzlement. “Are you being serious right now? That woman… She abandoned you all those years ago…” There was audible contempt in his voice._

_Armin’s chest started to ache. The load he’d been lugging from the loss of his father was piling on in heaps, and this new revelation certainly wasn’t making it any lighter._

_“Why would I lie?” The blond’s voice wavered some. He momentarily shut his eyes, then looked towards his mother and took to chewing his lip._

_“I… don’t know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why she’s here.”_

_Mikasa’s fingers tightened on his arm. “She clearly hasn’t noticed you yet. If she did, she’d have come over, right?”_

_“What I want to know is what she’s even_ doing  _in Shiganshina.” Eren looked to Armin for clarification, but the blond was still trying to convince himself that his mother was sitting_ right there.

 _Part of him wanted to approach her, but he also felt content to simply stay put and wait for her to leave the diner— even if it meant sacrificing the opportunity to speak to her for the first time in a_ decade.

_He sighed deep in his chest. Contemplating his course of action only worsened the pain in his head._

_“What do you guys think I should do?” He looked between his friends in desperation._

_Most times, it was_ Armin _who was on the receiving end of that question, but he couldn’t decide, and he didn’t want to act without counsel from the two people that mattered most to him._

_Mikasa sipped her water and eyed him with purpose. “Armin, you never know if this opportunity will present itself again.” Her eyes were warm and supportive. “I say you go and speak to her.”_

_“But she_ abandoned _you,” spat Eren, scowling. He said it as if Armin didn’t already know._

_“If she’s in town and didn’t try to contact you, I don’t think she wants to, dude.” He sighed._

_Something about Eren’s tone made Armin think he was trying to spare his feelings. It was a nice gesture, but the boy had already dealt with_ so much _that pain was becoming all too familiar._

_Another heavy sigh escaped as he looked back to Nifa. She’d finished her food and was n directing her waiter’s attention for the check._

‘It’s now or never,’ _he decided._

 _Armin’s next thoughts surprised him. He started wondering what_ Jean _would tell him to do in this situation. That was odd. Armin had been so preoccupied as of late, he hadn’t much thought of his roommate since the day he left._

 _But even so, he found himself thinking. How_ would  _Jean advise him? He’d probably tell him to “seize the moment” and go talk to her, then add some dorky line like “yolo” at the end._

‘Such a nerd...’

_Under different circumstances, Armin knew he would have smiled._

_He observed each move his mother made as she plucked a credit card from her ivory-colored wallet. He studied her expressions, how they were so scarily_ similar  _to his own. Armin could see himself in those large, doe eyes of hers and it was disquieting._

‘…I have to do this.’

_He never once broke the one-sided gaze with the woman. “I’m… going to go talk to her.” Armin felt his stomach coil with excitement, but also fear._

_Eren blinked at his friend. “Are you sure?”_

_The question made Armin bite his lip. He’d thought he was, but now that Eren had challenged him, his resolve faltered slightly._

_“…Um, yeah.” He nodded to assure himself again. Was it really a good idea?_

_“Yes. I’m sure.”_

_“Okay...” Eren shifted his eyes to Nifa as well. He reached across the table to give the smaller hand a squeeze. “If it gets too much for you, don’t hesitate to come back.”_

_Armin would assume Mikasa nodded, but he didn’t see it. He was afraid that if he looked away, he’d change his mind._

_The blond inhaled and pushed from his chair, tucking it under the tablecloth. His nerves were_ aflame _when he slowly strode over, and as he did, Nifa’s head lifted towards his direction. To say she looked surprised would have been a great understatement._

 _She gaped at him as she swung around in her chair to face her son. Countless emotions crossed her features, but she ultimately remained silent and just kept on_ staring.

_Up close, Armin could see how young she looked. Perhaps that was why she left; she’d been young when she had him and felt cheated out of a life she never got to live._

_“Mother?” Armin stumbled on the word. It felt strange being uttered on his tongue._

_Nifa sat her wallet down on the table and stood. She was more or less of a height with him, and had the same, small and wiry frame. She appeared to be tinge more nourished than her son._

_“Armin...” she pronounced, blinking rapidly as if trying to grasp the reality of the situation. “You’re here… I can’t believe it._ ” _She stepped closer. Armin moved back instinctively._

_“Did you get my email? Is that why you came?”_

‘Email?’  _That left him confused. “What email?” Armin asked it a little too hastily. He hadn’t received the email, but that might’ve been because he hadn’t been in touch with most technology those last few days._

_Nifa raked her fingers through hair that was the same, thick texture as his own. Hers was shaded cherry brown._

_“I emailed you as soon as I heard about your father...” She licked over her lip nervously. “I asked if we could speak. I—”_

_“You wanted to_ speak to me _?” Something broke inside him then. Before knew it, words were tumbling out of him –everything he’d imagined he’d say  if they ever crossed paths again._

 _He was growing_ angrier _by the second._

 _“Why_ now _? Where were you when he went to prison in the first place? You knew! You knew what he did to me, and still, you didn’t—” His eyes narrowed accusingly and he choked on a sob._

 _“Did you even_ care _?”_

_He’d already decided she didn’t. Armin stared downward, feeling his eyes burning with tears so he squeezed them shut. He wouldn’t allow himself to cry over her._

_He felt Nifa gently tugging him to sit at her table. Armin sunk down listlessly, not lifting his eyes. He couldn’t handle looking at her right then._

_“I… I need to explain things.” His mother’s words were measured and slow. “Will you allow me the opportunity?”_

_Armin didn’t miss her evasion of his question. He still didn’t look at her, and his tone retained its bitterness. “You owe me at least that, Mother.” It felt unfitting to call her that._

_Armin would listen, but he was sure what she had to say wouldn’t stray too far from the cliché “I was young and stupid” sob story. He folded his hands on the surface of the table and glanced to Eren and Mikasa. They both intently watched with looks of encouragement on their faces._

_“Are those your friends?” Nifa asked timidly._

_Armin turned back to his mother and bit his inner cheek. “Yeah. They’re more like my family, though.” He twiddled his thumbs._ ‘Why am I even telling her this?’ 

“ _Anyway, I think you should get on with whatever you have to say.” He looked her in the eyes. “Our train is scheduled to arrive in two hours.”_

_Nifa swallowed and nodded. When she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, Armin noticed her hand shaking._

_“I suppose I should start by telling you what the email entailed.” She looked purposefully at her son. “I… Well, first, I began by saying you had no obligation to read it.” She glanced away from him. “Armin… You don’t even have an obligation to talk to me right now. If you wanted, you could up and leave, and I wouldn’t hold it against you.” She sighed._

_“Your father’s death just… made me realize how alone you must have felt all those years without a mother. So I—”_

_“So you decided to reach out to me after ten years.” Armin’s hand rose to wipe the tear that was threatening to fall. “_ Ten years _, Mother. You’re a little late.”_

_Nifa sunk her face in her hands for a few seconds. “I know how long it’s been, believe me. Every single day I thought of you, Armin. But as more time passed, I felt less worthy of being in your life again...”_

_Armin pursed his lips into a line to keep them from quivering. He doubted she could even_  begin _to comprehend how screwed up his childhood was because of her. How, after she’d left, his father had tried to ‘salvage what was left of her’ and did those horrible things to Armin for_ three whole years…

_Of course, she had to know. The entire tristate area knew. Kurt’s arrest made the local headlines. But Nifa would never understand. She’d never know the disappointment Armin felt sitting with his grandfather in the police station, waiting around to see if she’d show up. Even after three years, his childish naiveté had led him to believe that maybe she’d return._

_But, of course, she hadn’t come back for him. Armin remembered crying himself to sleep that night._

_He touched his chest and felt the increased rate of his heart. Armin almost couldn’t find his words. He looked back up at her slowly._

_“Mother,” he began. “…What made you leave in the first place? Was it me?” Armin always thought it was. He understood her feeling trapped with a man she’d only married because she was pregnant, but mothers shared special bonds with their children... If she didn’t want Armin, she should have put him up for adoption. Instead, she_ lied to him _for seven years, and then fled with her last words being “Daddy will pick you up after school, alright? I won’t be able to make it. I’m going on a trip.”_

_Nifa must’ve read his thoughts because her lips turned into a deep frown._

_“No Armin… It wasn’t you.” She sighed. “I just felt so caged. Kurt and I weren’t in love. We just decided marriage was the best option since I was pregnant.” She seemed almost ashamed of what she was saying. “I really… I really tried. I tried to make it work for those years. I thought maybe if I spent more time with him, love would come. But it never did and I…”_

_It was then that her eyes started to moisten. “I did something stupid. I was fed up… I was fed up with the life I was living. At first, I wanted to just leave for a few months, to have some time to myself… But then, it turned into a year, and another year, and then another...” She averted her gaze to keep Armin from seeing her tears. But he saw, and the sight caused a few of his own to surface._

_“And then, I saw what he’d done on the news. I wanted so much to come back. I wanted to… I wanted to be a mother to you again, Armin. I owed you that much. But I knew I couldn’t do it.”_

_Nifa began rubbing at her temple, tears now rolling freely down her cheeks. “I have no excuse, except that I was young and couldn’t handle the responsibility of being a mother. I wanted someone more capable to take care of you. Armin, I’m… so sorry for abandoning you.”_

_Armin allowed her words to register. Like he’d assumed, Nifa’s story wasn’t much different from what he’d seen in the media of mothers trying to atone for leaving their children behind. They were all the same, really, but that didn’t stop Armin from sobbing into his hand, vision blurring from the tears that fogged in front of his eyes._

_“Surely…” He’d composed himself enough to speak. “Surely you had some suspicions of how he was?”_

_His mother was dabbing the corner of her eye with a Kleenex she’d produced from her clutch. She sniffed softly._

_“No, I never did... Believe me, if I had the smallest inkling, I would have had him arrested immediately.”_

_She squeezed the tissue in her fist. “I know I can never apologize for what he did to you. For leaving you with a sick bastard like him, Armin. But I’m sorry anyway. No one deserves that.”_

_Nifa extended her arm, and before he knew it, fingers tentatively covered his own. Armin gasped at the warmth. The softness of her hand made his heart leap. He'd longed for that touch for so many years… It felt_   _too good to pull away._

_Armin hesitantly turned his wrist over and properly clasped her hand in his._

_“Will you…” She appeared to have some difficulty with her words. “Will you let me… be in your life again? I’d like to try and be a mother to you, Armin.”_

_Armin was struck silent. It was obvious he could never forgive Nifa, but now, she was here, and she’d expressed the desire to be in his life again. Armin found he was weak. No matter how old he got, he’d always need his mother._

_It wouldn’t be an easy task, he knew.But they could certainly try and mend things._

\---

And _try_ they did. Armin and Nifa spent the remainder of their impromptu meeting discussing what would have to be done to start the healing process.

It would be gradual, and would probably take more time than was lost, but Armin could tell his mother had a genuine want to be in his life again. He had to convince himself it was okay to give her a chance.

Of course, he had his doubts. The abandonment had given way to a great deal of insecurities and difficulties with trusting others. It also made him extremely _spiteful_ towards her. He was torn down the middle between being on-board with having his mother back, and resenting the fact that she’d taken so long.

This plight kept him pent in the Jaegers’ guestroom on Saturday morning. Armin sat on the queen-sized bed, back against the headboard with his laptop balanced on his thighs.

For the day, Carla and Grisha extended their parlor to be used as a meeting place for Armin and Nifa to talk, secluded from the public’s eye. She was scheduled to arrive in an hour and a half. Armin’s stomach was all in knots.

He was boundlessly grateful when another presence joined him in the room. Blue eyes darted to Eren and he smiled brightly at his friend.

“So, hey.” Eren grabbed his attention, posing theatrically where he stood. “What do you think of this outfit, ‘Min?”

Armin moved his laptop aside and sat up a little straighter. He attentively took in Eren’s attire. He was wearing a band tee, tight-fitting ripped jeans and, as usual, his gold key pendant hung around his neck.

“Um… It doesn’t really look any different from your other outfits,” Armin said honestly. He gave one last glance to his laptop before closing it.

Eren walked completely into the room and did a turn so the blond could get a full view of what he was wore.

“The jeans are new,” Eren informed, wiggling his hips playfully. Armin giggled.

“Oh, yeah I can see that. Your butt definitely looks nice.”

“Thanks.” The other boy snickered and sat in front of him, grabbing his phone from his back pocket.

“Why are you dressed anyway?” Armin poked his knee through one of the many rips in his jeans. “Going somewhere?”

“Uh… well, yeah.” Eren looked ridiculously sheepish.

“Kris and I are going to a movie.” He held up his hands immediately after the words left his lips. “It’s not like that. There’s just something we both wanna see so we decided to do it together. It’s not even serious.”

Armin sat cross-legged on the bed. “If you say so.” He grinned slightly, picking at a loose thread on his pajama pants. If it wasn’t a date, Armin would have liked to go, too, but he would be hosting his mother soon. The thought still didn’t do well for his nerves.

“I’m pretty sure she wants to get involved with that townie she met at the beach,” Eren went on, trying to make his case more convincing. Armin couldn’t help a small laugh at how defensive his friend was acting.

“You don’t have to justify it. I believe you.” He smiled gently. “So, are you leaving right now?”

Eren shook his head. “Nah, not yet. I just wanted to try on the jeans.” He started adjusting his bangs in the frontal view of his phone’s camera, preparing to take a selfie clearly. Armin’s eyes narrowed.

“Do not think of turning that camera on me. I look like crap.” Armin shifted to the side in case Eren was going to surprise him, but he didn’t. He knew they had a silent understanding of the  _real reason_ Armin had been avoiding inclusion in Eren’s photos.

At first, Armin deluded himself into thinking he didn’t care that much about how his roommates felt. They hardly knew each other after all.

But, as more time progressed, Armin began to see things through different eyes. It dawned on him how much of an inconsiderate asshole he was being – especially to Jean.

He’d been ignoring every attempt he made to contact him, though they were received. Armin read each text and listened to the voicemails, too. They’d made his heart flutter because he couldn’t fathom why someone he met two months ago cared so much – especially when it was so apparent he still had feelings for that guy in the military.

Armin fell into the quilted duvet and fixed his eyes on the ceiling, sighing as his hand laid across his abdomen.

_‘This is all so messy…’_

“Armin,” Eren’s face cut into his view. He looked worried. The smaller male brought his lower lip into his mouth.

“Are you okay?”

 _‘That’s a loaded question.’_  “Yes.” The lie left him effortlessly. Armin placed his arm over his eyes as an involuntary pout formed. He could feel the weight on the bed shift and a presence resting beside him.

“You know…” There was a bit too much grin in Eren’s voice. “Horseshit posted a photo on Instagram just now.”

The blond felt his eyelid twitch. He tugged his arm away and turned his head to the side to look at Eren. His eyes were on his phone.

_‘How did he…?’_

“That’s nice...” the blond said slowly. He wanted to ask for further information, but he kept silent. He was certain now, Eren was  _well aware_  of what he’d been thinking. He wouldn’t have brought Jean up otherwise.

“You miss them, don’t you?” Eren smirked.

The question caused a lump to rise in his throat. Wordlessly, he sighed, intensely wishing for this conversation to end.

“It’s okay if you do.” Eren reached over to poke his cheek. “You haven’t been home in, what, two weeks now? Of course you’re gonna miss them.”  

Armin set his gaze on the wall at the other end of the room. Sure, he missed them. He missed them a lot, but something told him Jean and Connie might be angry with him. He’d prolonged his stay when he said he’d only be gone for a few days,  _and_ he’d been blatantly ignoring them…

“I do miss them,” Armin heard himself mumble. “It’s just… not as simple as going home.”  _‘I don’t know how to face them.’_

The brunet urged him to meet his eyes. “It’s only that simple. Look, Connie and Jean are your friends. It’s only natural to wanna see them again. It’s been a really long time.”

His voice quieted as he studied Armin and a knowing smirk came across his face.

“And you like Horse Face, don’t you?”

At that, Armin’s eye widened. _‘Oh my—’_  He covered his nose to divert the blush that was rapidly spreading over his face. He couldn’t say anything for fear he’d be reduced to a stuttering mess.

_‘What the hell, Eren?’_

This was not right. Usually, Armin kept himself composed fine, and he refused to believe he’d let himself slip…

It couldn’t have been  _that_  obvious.

Evidentially, Eren was reading his thoughts again. He smirked all through the action of removing Armin’s hand from his face.

“’Min, you do realize we’ve known each other since we were kids, right? I can tell when you’re into someone.” And then, he went on to bring up the apparent faces Armin made when he read all the texts Jean sent him.

Armin sat up in bed and sighed. He’d almost missed his next words because he’d been busily thinking up ways to steer Eren off the topic.

“I think you should go home.”

_‘He seems to be fond of making me uncomfortable today.’_

Armin was instantly offended. “What, are you kicking me out?” He looked at his friend only when he felt the blush begin to disperse.

Eren chuckled. “No. You know I love having you around all the time, but…” He nudged his back with his foot. “It’s been  _ages._  I know you’re itching to see them again.” He sat up as well and looked at the blond. “You can even , like, run into Jean’s arms in slow-motion or some shit. Like one of those BL animes.”

“ _EREN_.”

“Chill, I was kidding!”

The blush returned, but now, it was mostly out of rage. Armin took a pillow and smacked Eren upside the head. Hard.

He couldn’t go home  _now_  – or even today, for that matter. He already had to deal with the fact that his mother was on her way. But… soon. Eren was right; he missed Jean and Connie, and he knew the longer he stayed way the worse the situation would get.

“…Maybe tomorrow,” Armin decided quietly. He saw Eren pick up his phone and begin tapping at the touch screen, humming the tune of a pop song neither of them could get out of their head.

 _‘Yeah,’_  Armin assured himself, ‘ _Tomorrow.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Armin are getting together soon, I promise guys. I would tell you HOW soon but that would be a spoiler. Just stay tuned :)
> 
> Song for this chapter:  
> Little Wanderer – Death Cab For Cutie


	10. Where The Heart Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bunch of mushy goodness.

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 12 th: 3:01PM**

Jean hadn’t been keeping track of how long he’d been staring out of the window, but he noticed the shift in scenery as he was chauffeured deeper into the city. The way his brother raged out profanities at the other drivers indicated that they were nearing Trost State’s housing neighborhood.

According to Farlan, they were all “dumbass college freshmen” who’d no business behind the wheel of a car.

Jean thought he was feeling himself _a bit too much_ since he was in his fourth year of law school. He was quick to remind Farlan that he’d been the one to teach Jean to drive when he was sixteen.

They came to a red light and Farlan moved grey eyes to Jean. “Ay, is there somewhere to get coffee around here? I need a recharge.”

Jean didn’t return the gaze. The anxiety swarming in his stomach as of late, coupled with the lack of sleep, was really messing with his head, and he physically felt _drained._

“Jean?” Farlan snapped his fingers in front of his face. Evidentially, the younger male had gone too long without speaking.

“Hello? Did you hear me?”

Sighing, Jean reeled back his head and looked at the sunroof. “Sorry, bro.” The apology was devoid of any sort of feeling. “I still have an unopened pack of that Moroccan coffee Uncle Keith got me.”

He hoped his response sufficed to show Farlan that he was listening. Somewhat. “It has to be ground first but it’s better than anything I’ve had at a coffee place.”

Jean visualized Armin raising a mug of that coffee to his lips and rhapsodizing over how _delicious_ it was. Jean remembered brewing it for them the evening before the beach trip. They’d ended up marathon’ing Special Victims Unit because they were both too wired to sleep.  

Thought of Armin evoked mixed emotions. Right then, Jean felt a dull ache in his chest. He sighed and carded his hand through  golden-brown locks.

“That’s fine by me,” Farlan said. Jean was half-listening. The other male spared him a sidelong glance, looking immensely worried.

“Okay, I gotta say something.” Farlan’s eyes were shifting between his brother and the road “I thought maybe I was imagining it but I know now… Something’s up with you. What is it?”

For the second time in five minutes, Jean let out a sigh.

“…Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Of course, Farlan saw through the flimsy façade. Jean wasn’t surprised by how well his brother knew him, but it was troublesome. He relaxed from his rigid position and sat more comfortably in the leather car seat.

“It’s… Okay. It’s not something I really know how to talk about,” Jean finally muttered. “And I don’t want to, so…” He was aware he was being difficult, but he wanted nothing more than a subject change. Jean hadn’t yet spoken aloud about the situation with Armin and he was unwilling to do so.

“You don’t want to talk about and yet you make it so _clear_ something’s bothering you.” Farlan snorted and looked back at the road. “That’s fucked up, man.”

“It might be fucked up, but it’s the truth,” Jean said, shrugging.

 

The drive continued in one-sided silence. Thankfully, Farlan let the subject concerning Jean’s foul mood drop and took to chatting about any and everything that crept into his mind. Jean couldn’t say he was listening to the vast majority of what his brother was saying.

“So Isabel was sort of talking around moving in together recently,” Farlan announced with badly contained giddiness. Jean had his phone out and was browsing his Instagram feed. He pushed the “like” button when he scrolled to a selfie Sasha took. She was holding a box of Maltesers and smiling goofily at the camera.

“Fucking finally,” Jean said, sounding amused. “You guys have been together for, like, a bazillion years.”

“We’ve been _friends_ for that long,” Farlan corrected. “Things only got romantic at that party we went to on New Year’s.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Jean chuckled.

Isabel Magnolia had been a family friend, as well as Jean’s babysitter, for a large portion of his childhood. It hadn’t been a secret that Farlan harbored a serious crush on her. The feelings only deepened as the years went by. Jean was relieved his brother stopped acting like a pussy and finally did something about it.

Farlan drove them into Jean’s apartment complex and was directed to the space Jean had reserved for guests. It was at the back of the lot so they’d have to do some walking, but Jean didn’t think anything of it. The Kirschsteins were a naturally sporty and in-shape family; Jean had been running track since junior high and Farlan just liked any sport that involved hand-to-hand interaction.

“This entire complex is student housing?” Farlan parked his Lexus and removed the keys from the ignition. Both brothers unbuckled their seatbelts.

“Yeah.” Jean nodded. “As is the one across the street. The rent here is, like, unbelievably cheap.”  

He climbed out of the car and closed the door as gently as he could, knowing Farlan would have shit to say if he slammed it.

He looked up three stories and saw that in the bedroom facing the street – Armin’s bedroom – the lights were off. Jean sighed heavily. It was stupid of him to think Armin would be there, he knew, but he’d been hopeful.

_‘Fucking hell. It’s starting to feel like he’s never coming home…’_

\---

Armin slipped into his bedroom with a bath towel around his hips. He kept touching the ends of his newly-dried hair, impressed by how soft the leave-in conditioner Mikasa lent him made his hair feel. For once, the boy actually enjoyed the thirty-seven minutes spent blow-drying the blond tresses – and it smelled _divine._

He hummed an upbeat tune as he toweled off his body, periodically glancing at the digital clock on his nightstand.

Armin knew he was probably being a bit too neurotic; Connie had told him when he first arrived that Jean would be out for the majority of the day; his brother had come in from Stohess and he wanted to spend time with him. Of course, Armin respected that. He was just so _eager_ to see him again.

He opened the top-left drawer of his dresser and collected a pair of underwear from the neatly folded stack, contemplating if he should go out. It was fairly mild for August; the weather was a stark contrast from the unbearable heat from days previous. Armin had all but refused to leave the house when he’d been staying with the Jaegers.

The boy had only just finished pulling his boxer briefs up his legs when something completely _unexpected_ reached his ears. His humming died instantly at the sound he thought was the front door opening.

_‘What…?’_

“Damn, this place is nice,” he heard an unfamiliar voice say while laughing. “I’m genuinely surprised it isn’t a dump yet.”

_‘Who is that?’_

The reply came from someone he definitely recognized, but Armin had trouble believing it was actually _him._

“Tch, Connie’s the messy one, not me. The guy’s room is a fucking pigsty.”

Armin’s eyes widened. _‘Jean… ’_ He was almost ready to stroll out and greet him, but then he remembered his state of undress.

 _‘Cool your jets, Armin.’_ He forced himself to turn to his closet instead.

Plausibly, the other voice had to be Jean’s brother. That was the only conclusion that made sense. Armin set his eyes on the wall that faced the living room even though he couldn’t be seen. The way his voice sounded indicated that he was likely older, though not by much.

Feet were heard walking further into the apartment. “What about your other roommate?” Jean’s brother asked. “Armin, was it?”

Armin exhaled and took a pair of skinny jeans from their hanger. He didn’t want to hear what Jean had to say. Something told him it wouldn’t be positive.

There was a pause before Jean responded.  “I wish I knew.” He sounded dejected. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Why not? He lives here, doesn’t he?”

Armin felt his insides twist uncomfortably. He slid on the jeans, then grabbed a large t-shirt he suspected belonged to Eren from the stack of storage boxes against the wall of his closet.

“He’s been staying with family for a while. We’ve barely spoken since he left… so I don’t really know where things stand with us.”

Armin frowned. Hearing Jean’s side of things was expectedly painful for him. He fluffed his hair after putting on the shirt and slid his feet into yellow ankle socks.

“Ah,” Jean’s brother said. “That’s shitty. You must miss him.”

“Yeah,” Jean agreed, sighing. “I’m fucking worried, too. Some heavy shit went down and…I just need to know he’s okay.”

It was times like this that Jean jarred him with how adoringly sweet he was. He also felt an unrelenting sense of guilt for how he’d been treating him. It had been unexpected that Connie was understandng when he told him everything (well, all he felt comfortable sharing), but Armin was convinced it would be different with Jean. He knew the other boy at least felt _something_ for him, so he could only imagine how personally he was taking his absence.

 _‘I’ve really screwed up…’_ Blue eyes averted downward. It was anyone’s guess what would transpire when he saw Jean again. He thought he might be angry at him. Anger was the natural reaction to Armin’s behavior.

“Is that why you’ve been in a funk? ‘Cause you miss him?” Even through the wall, Armin detected the amusement in Jean’s brother’s question.

“Jean, you’re acting like a scorned boyfriend, no offense.”

“Well I’m fucking worried!” Jean shot back instantly. “And I’m not his boyfriend. We’re not…” He groaned, his voice quieting slightly. Armin could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s my friend, okay? We’ve not seen each other in ages so, yeah, I’m upset. Is that so hard to believe?”

Armin bit hard at his lower lip. It really wasn’t.

“I guess not.” Jean’s brother still sounded smug. “No need to get so touchy, Jeanny.”

“I’m just sick of people calling shit that isn’t there.”

 _‘That’s it.’_ An unknown force drove Armin to his bedroom door. He slowly twisted the knob and pulled at it, his steps uncertain as he crept out.

In intense situations, adrenaline rushes were common. Armin surmised that must’ve been what was happening when he peeked up and met the eyes of a boy who appeared equally as stunned.

Neither of them spoke for that instant, then Jean cleared his throat and moved closer. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Armin…” he pronounced unsurely, like he was trying to place he was real. “What... What are you doing here?”

Armin licked his suddenly-dry lips. “I live here.” As much as he wanted to, he forced himself not to look away.

Jean still seemed disbelieving. “Wait, are you... back now?”

There was slight hesitance before Armin nodded earnestly. When Jean stood before him, the difference in their heights became much more apparent.

“Yes, I’m back.” He continued to stare up at him.

Jean displayed that smile that always seemed exclusively for him. It was barely visible on his face, but Armin still saw it.

“That’s great,” Jean said sincerely. “That’s… That’s so great.”

What followed shouldn’t have surprised Armin as much as it did. Strong arms tugged him into an embrace and the boy’s immediate reaction was to stiffen, but then he realized how much he really did _need_ this.

Jean’s scent was a combination of spice cologne and that ripeness people acquired after being outside for a long time. Armin didn’t mind the latter. He shyly slid his arms around him and made the hold more secure.

It was then that he truly felt he was _home._

“A _hem._ Gonna introduce me?”

Armin drew back, entirely ripped from his brief state of bliss. He seemed a lot more keen on letting go, though; Jean didn’t break the hold until Armin showed discomfort.

It was impressive how quickly a blush covered both their faces. Armin pushed back his hair, feeling embarrassed, but he still managed to look towards the  voice.

Only a second was necessary to confirm Armin’s presumption: This man was indeed Jean’s brother. He was of the same height and build – the only distinct difference in their appearances being their hair. Jean’s was longer, and this guy’s was a slightly darker shade of honey brown.

 _‘He’s really hot…’_ The thought came unbidden. Armin stepped back and tried to swallow the feeling of sheepishness tat just kept persisting.

“Armin, this is my brother.” Jean’s vexation wasn’t subtle. He sighed exasperatedly as he gestured between the two males. “Farlan, this is my roommate, Armin. If that wasn’t obvious enough.”

Farlan smirked at him, then turned a softer gaze on the blond before him. “It was. Jean showed me some pictures of you.” His smile was friendly. “Nice to meet you in person, Armin.”

Armin tried not to be ruffled by that thought, but it was difficult not to feel at least _somewhat_ disquieted. He wanted to inquire what pictures – Armin never liked the idea of people discussing him when he wasn’t around –but he wanted Farlan’s first impression of him to be that he _wasn’t_ crazy.

“Oh, did he?” Armin went to adjust his cartilage piercing. He mirrored Farlan’s smile without much effort. “Um… Okay then. Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Farlan. I’d heard that Jean had a brother but for some reason I had the image that he’d be a kid.” He grinned a little, speaking shyly.

Farlan looked at Jean, gasping teasingly and touching his chest. “You’ve never told him about your dashing older brother? That hurts, Jeanny.”

Jean rolled his eyes. “As you can see, there’s nothing to tell.” He spoke darkly, a hand clapping on Farlan’s shoulder.  “And ‘dashing’? Okay.”

 _‘They’re definitely brothers.’_ Armin’s grin widened. As much as he may’ve wanted to ignore it, there was a thought that sat at the back of his mind: Jean still had no idea about what had been going on the last two weeks. Armin knew he should tell him, but he couldn’t say it was at the top of his list of things he wanted to discuss.

“So, that coffee?” Farlan raised his eyebrows and looked at Jean expectantly.

“Yeah, I know,” Jean said, nodding in affirmation. “Just… wait in the kitchen for me.” His eyes carried to Armin and it seemed Jean was at least somewhat aware of what he’d been thinking. “We’ll join you in a sec.”

Farlan left only after fixing his brother with a smirk. Jean glared after him, then returned his attention to Armin. The boy suddenly felt bashful.

“We need to talk,” Jean firmly stated. Armin momentarily looked away from him.

“Um, you do realize your brother is here, right?”

Jean sighed impatiently. “I meant in private.” He urged the blond to look at him by gently touching his arm.

Armin bit into his lip when their gazes met. “I don’t think we should just leave him out here, Jean. He’s your guest.” The words came in a low timber.

Jean didn’t follow the hint. His voice retained its usual loudness. “You’re being evasive.”

“I am not.” Armin was offended by the erroneous deduction. “You’re being presumptuous. Listen, we can talk later, okay?” He ensured the candor of his words was conveyed by the look he gave him.

“I promise… I’m not going anywhere.”

That was all Jean needed to hear, clearly. A small smile broke onto his lips and he slowly nodded. Armin felt himself smiling back.

“I’ll hold you to that,” the taller boy said. He dashed his eyes away when he blushed.

“I’m… sure you heard what I said to Farlan. It wasn’t a lie, Armin... I really was worried about you.” Jean’s voice quieted and he ran a hand over the base of his neck. “I still am.”

Armin’s first instinct was to reassure him – even if it wouldn’t be genuine. He wasn’t sure when, or if, he would stop hurting completely.

“Jean…” the blonde began softly, glancing once to the kitchen. Farlan was leaning against the island, unpeeling a clementine he got from the fruit bowl. He seemed to be making a point not to look at them.

“I’m here, aren’t I? That must count for something.” His expression immediately became playful when he turned back. “But, hey… I think you’re being a really crappy host.”

A low chuckle rumbled from Jean’s throat at that. He too stole a glance at his brother.

“You think?”

Armin grinned. “I think.”

Jean appeared thoughtful for a second, then he grinned too and straightened his back.

“I don’t really care, to be completely frank with you.” Jean shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think I can focus on anything else until we talk. It was easier to not think about it when you were staying with your protection squad.  But now you’re back, and yeah, that’s great, but we really need to discuss why you left in the first place.” He looked down at Armin stubbornly.

Jean’s insistence was definitely annoying, but Armin couldn’t help but feel kind of charmed. He made it so blatant how much he really did care; he was putting this over spending time with his brother, who he hadn’t seen in much longer.  

Armin would admit it was warming.

“You…” He didn’t really know what he wanted to say, but suddenly, his cheeks were rosy and his gaze was on the floor. Armin felt so unbelievably guilty, he doubted he could even convey it to Jean.

His roommate called to the kitchen to notify Farlan that he’d be alone for a bit while he and Armin spoke privately. The older man had to tease him before giving his consent.

“Wow, this is extremely rude,” Farlan’s voice rang from the kitchen. “You know, my main reason for coming here was ‘cause _someone_ promised me coffee.”

“Dude.” Jean was irritated already, which wasn’t at all surprising. “Waiting a little while won’t kill you. But if you want it that bad, you have two hands. It’s in the pantry.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before clasping Armin’s hand loosely and guiding him into the hallway.

Armin’s eyes kept to his feet the entire journey to Jean’s bedroom. It was a short walk, but the silence was still unnerving to him. It felt thick, like Jean was thinking about something.

The taller entered his room first and Armin closely followed. The open blinds allotted enough sunlight that no lamps needed to be switched on.

“Okay, um…” Armin stared at his thighs when he sat with Jean atop the burgundy duvet. “I know… I know you must have a lot of questions.” He didn’t look at him, contemplating what he should even say. He had to ask himself if he trusted Jean.

He’d not done anything to make him feel otherwise, he knew, but Armin wondered if they even were acquainted enough for a feeling such as that to arise. Desiring someone in the romantic sense didn’t equate to trusting them. It was as simple as that.

“Armin, I have to be honest.” Jean’s words sounded like a prelude to something that would upset him. “I dunno, you’ve always been pretty evasive when talking about this sort of stuff. I know you don’t like it, but... we’re friends, yeah?”

“Yeah, we are.” Armin’s response was quiet.

“Then…” Jean’s voice softened. “Then try for me. Promise you’ll actually answer my questions and not co that thing you do when you don’t wanna talk about something.” Jean planted his palms flat on his bed and leaned back.

It was then that Armin glanced up, catching a light brown gaze with his own. “…Yeah, I promise.” It would be a challenge, but Armin surprised himself with his willingness to try.

“Thank you.” The honesty Jean displayed when he looked at him was a little overwhelming. Armin tucked back his hair, preparing mentally for what Jean would ask. He had a few ideas.

“It was really upsetting to hear you cry like that the night before you left,” Jean said. “It’s been fucking me up not knowing what caused it. I…” It seemed he wanted to say more on that, but ultimately, he didn’t.

“Was it related to that letter you got?”

Armin exhaled through his mouth. He nodded, looking away from him again and fidgeting with the denim fabric of his jeans.

Jean tilted his neck up to the ceiling. “I tried to put it out of my mind, but it got me really worried,” he went on. “I didn’t tell Connie about it. I already kinda felt _I_ was invading your privacy.”

“Well...” Armin sighed. “It can’t be helped now. But thank you for not saying anything. I know it must’ve been… confusing.” His gaze remained on his lap even when he felt Jean looking at him. “It was about my father. He passed away during his life sentence. The prison sent me a letter to notify me.”

When he finally glanced up, Armin could clearly see the gears working on Jean’s face. The other boy seemed unable to find his words; he just stared at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Shit, that’s…” Jean blinked a few times. “I’m so sorry Armin. I can’t even imagine…” He trailed off, surprising Armin with affection for the second time that day. A larger palm closed over his and gave a squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’ve never had to deal with anything like this so I can’t say I understand but… Christ, that’s terrible…”

Armin shook his head, laughing bitterly as he squeezed Jean’s hand right back. “No… no. It’s okay.” He reassured him gently. “My father and I never had the best relationship. His death just happened to unearth some really… dreadful memories. I guess for a second I was in a time warp and I lost it.” The slightest of shivers ran through Armin at the sensation of Jean’s thumb caressing his slim fingers. He tried not to make it seem as if it was affecting him so much.

“I initially only planned to stay with Eren for a little while... but when we went up to Shiganshina, well… My mother decided to show her face for the first time in ten years.”

The stunned expression Jean wore intensified. Armin had to sympathize with him; he’d kept him the dark for _so much_ concerning his personal life that it must’ve been a lot to take in all at once.

“Wait, so your mom wasn’t…” Jean’s brows shot upward. He looked away but their hands remained joined. “Fuck. So, this all happened over the course of two weeks?”

Armin nodded, watching the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed. “It was so weird, Jean. She just… showed up out of nowhere.” He paused. “She’d sent me an email after my father died asking if we could speak but I didn’t notice it. We just happened to see each other one time when I was out with Eren and Mikasa.”

Armin wondered why it didn’t feel awkward that he was still holding Jean’s hand. The gentle strokes against his fingers were comforting, but there was something else about it that the boy couldn’t exactly place…

“So what happened?” Jean eyed him resolutely, and that pulled a sigh from Armin. At this point, he was so tired of feeing devastated and broken over what happened. The boy was all checked out in the emotional department.

“I almost didn’t want to talk to her, but I convinced myself it was a good idea...” It was difficult relaying this without remembering it precisely. “So, yeah… After the initial shock settled, we talked. She gave me her reasoning for leaving me – which only sounded like dumb excuses, by the way – and then asked if she could be in my life again. I told her it wouldn’t be easy but we’re… trying something.” Armin’s free hand curled into the fabric of the duvet. “t’s just a lot to deal with.”

“Yeah, sounds like,” Jean said, nodding. “I can see why you stayed away… though, it would’ve been nice if I got at least some kind of information about what was going on. Having to deal with you leaving and not knowing what caused it… That was really fucked up.”

“I know.” Armin exhaled a soft breath. “I’m so sorry, Jean. Worrying you guys wasn’t my intention, I just…” He took it upon himself to release their hands. “I guess… I needed to be with family while I got myself together.”

Jean made a sound indicative that he understood. “Armin… I need you to look at me for a second.”

Armin complied, though he was confused. He lifted his eyes from their downcast state. Jean was looking at him with such steadfast intensity that he felt an urge to turn away again.

“The next time something like this happens, please…” Jean briefly closed his eyes, then opened them again and resumed the stare.   
 “Don’t shut me out again, okay? I need you to know you can come to me. Yeah… We haven’t known each other for that long and I can’t even begin to compare to Eren or Mikasa, but… I _care_ about you,”

That was when the room got a whole lot warmer and Jean was hugging him again. There was slight hesitance, but Armin found himself looping his arms around his shoulders and nestling against the broader body.

“I know you do…” He’d never doubted it for a second. Armin’s voice was as meek as he currently felt. “I’m sorry, Jean…” he almost-whispered. “I figured I was just burdening you guys so I—”

“You’re _not_ a burden.” Jean hushed that self-depreciation. The finality in his tone was _unmissable_. “Shut that shit up, ‘Min.” He drew back to look into his eyes. “You should know by now… Connie and I, we—” He stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts.

“You just… mean a lot to us, okay?” Armin certainly wasn’t imagining the light blush staining his cheeks.

“…Okay.” He almost wanted to apologize again. Instead, Armin softly nipped at his bottom lip.

So, um, do you think we should head out now? I can only imagine how annoyed your brother probably is…”

Jean stared at the other male for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He looked towards the closed door of his room. “I was actually gonna order us pizza as a peace offering.” He chuckled.

Armin visibly perked up at his words. He clapped small hands together and smiled excitedly.

“Yay, pizza!”

Jean may’ve thought his own smile was discreet, but Armin saw it. He responded to the boy’s exclamation with a simple ruffle to his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Armin is so cute....  
> But can we talk about how SOFT Jean is for him in this fic?? His crush is so obvious ugh I just wanna push them together and make them kiss.
> 
> Okay, yeah, I know this chapter was kinda uneventful. Sorry. I wrote all I needed to and almost tacked on another scene at the end... but that would've been too much filler. I'm trying to downsize the filler in this new and improved Circle's End.  
> So sorry ; w ; love me, please.


	11. Panic Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit gets complicated.

Jean had been having dreams.

Ordinarily, this wouldn’t be an issue, except these dreams were definitely the exact _opposite_ of what one would consider of the normal quality.  

They plagued him nightly and caused a physically _tangible_ effect each time he woke from them.

The dreams always had one thing in common. They involved him and a certain blond, doe-eyed roommate of his in very… _compromising_ situations.

The most vivid of which occurred a few nights after Armin returned. Jean distinctly remembered a bed, fuzzy handcuffs and, oddly, the rubber horse mask Eren got for him one year as a sick Halloween joke.

Now, whenever Jean spied the mask sitting at the top of his closet, he was overwhelmed with imagery of a _very naked_ Armin straddling his waist, arms cuffed around his neck while he emitted a series of choked pleas to be fucked. _Hard._

Jean wouldn’t say the dreams were unpleasant, though they did pose a bit of a problem. (That problem wasn’t the extended time he spent in the bathroom each morning after waking from them.)

It was the guilt that surfaced when he thought back to the beginning of summer, before he’d even met Armin, and that promise he’d made to Marco.

The promise that, yes, he’d wait for him.

Jean was no expert on long-distance relationships (if it could even be considered that), but he knew the standards of waiting for someone did  _not_ include having smutty dreams about your hot roommate.

Ever since Jean started having them, he’d done everything in his power to avoid Armin. He was lucky the blond worked most of the week.

His luck ran out a whopping _three days_ after the dreams began. On Friday, Jean entered the living room and panicked at the sight.

Armin sat placidly on the couch, his back leant on the armrest. One of his earbuds was in and he looked as if he was watching something on his phone.   

Jean considered turning around and leaving before Armin noticed his presence, but the hunger he was experiencing took precedence to his cowardice. He nervously glanced to the side and approached the couch as coolly as possible.

“You’re here?” Jean lowered his eyes to Armin.

The blond peeked up immediately, pressing something on his phone as he sat a little straighter. His knees were brought up to his chest to exhibit a significant amount of thigh in the little drawstring shorts he wore. Jean swallowed thickly.

“Oh yeah,” Armin nodded his blond head. “I took one of my coworker’s shifts so I don’t go in for another two hours.” He seemed somewhat hesitant before pulling out his earbud.

“I see.” Jean walked into the kitchen, feeling a pair of eyes on his back as he took a pot out of the cupboard.

“Jean, can I ask you something?” Armin’s voice chimed out like some kind of fae creature. Jean halted where he stood on the linoleum, pot in hand.

“Uh, sure, yeah.” His eyebrow cocked slightly in curiosity. “Go ahead.”

Armin looked momentarily pensive, but then he smiled. “Okay, so, I wanted to go to that theater after work, you know the one that shows the older movies? Tonight, they’re showing _The Room_.” He grinned. “That movie is so laughably bad and you mentioned you’ve never seen it so I was wondering…” Armin’s expression was blatantly hopeful. “Would you wanna go with me? I’d really enjoy making fun of it together.” 

Jean bit his inner cheek and looked away from him. He really did _not_ want to refuse – sitting privately with Armin in a dark theater was a really appealing prospect – but he knew it was unwise. The pact Jean made to stay away from the blond was ever-looming over his shoulder.

He made certain to avoid Armin’s gaze. Seeing the disappointment on the boy’s face would be enough to do him in for sure.

“That sounds really fun, Armin,” Jean said, the guilt already seeping into his chest. “But… I don’t think I can, today. I—”

“What, do you already have plans?” The sharpness in Armin’s tone made Jean cringe. “Orr are you under the weather this time?” He didn’t seem surprised by Jean’s response, but he was still cleary irritated.

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have asked…”

Jean filled the pot with water from the tap and placed it on the stove. Evidentially, he’d not been as subtle as he thought; Armin was completely aware of his avoidant behavior and that dismayed him.

_‘I’m sorry…’_

Jean ran his hand through his hair as he tried to come up with an actually _plausible_ excuse, but no matter what shit he spurted, he knew he couldn’t avoid upsetting him.

“Sorry,” he said, swallowing when he finally mustered up the courage to look at him. Armin wore that expression that told him he was definitely bothered, but was going to remain calm. It was a little frightening.

“It’s… not you. Really.” Jean cleared his throat. “I just haven’t been feeling up to going out much lately.” He hoped his lie was convincing enough, but even _he_ could smell the bullshit. “I guess I’ve been kinda on-edge since… Y’know, classes start next week.”

The blond tilted his head slightly as he listened. He didn’t appear at all convinced; the way he wordlessly stared at him was telling enough. 

Jean switched on the burner whilst anxiously awaiting his reply.

“…You could have just told me that, Jean,” Armin said monotonously. “The way you’ve been acting these days made it seem like you don’t want me around.” He leaned on his thighs and tucked his legs under himself.

Jean muttered a low “sorry” under his breath, though it was unclear if Armin heard it. The hazel-eyed boy ran his tongue over the seam of his lips.  

“Anyway,” Armin coiled his earbuds around his phone and emitted a quiet sigh. “I’m gonna go get ready for work. Maybe I’ll ask Eren to see the movie with me.”

Jean cringed again. It might’ve been his imagination, but it really did feel as if Armin said that specifically to be spiteful.

The suspicion of Eren and Armin having a not-so-platonic connection had died down (Eren liked to proclaim very loudly how _straight he_ was), but it was still something to worry about. They’d been friends since they were kids. Jean knew it wouldn’t be farfetched if some sort of romance developed between them…

But even if that was the case, it technically wasn’t something that should matter to him. _‘Right, I don’t care.’_ Jean would tell himself enough times until it was believable. When he heard the sound of Armin shuffling out of the living room, his head hung.

_‘I don’t care...’_

\---

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 18 th: 6:49PM**

“So, dude, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong with you?”

Jean ignored Connie’s question, instead focusing on entering the combination for their shared gym locker _._

_25, 31, 9._

He twisted a few times, hissing out a curse when the metal didn’t budge. “God fucking damn it…” Jean was peeved but also determined. He went for a second attempt and yelped when a hand slapped his back.

“Ow, shit! What was _that_ for?” He spun around and fixed the short boy with a deep scowl.

“You ignored my question.” Connie nudged Jean aside and began fiddling with the lock himself.

“Will you fuck off? Nothing’s wrong…” he groused, dropping on the bench that separated the lockers while waiting for the metal door to spring open.

He began unlacing his running shoes, not looking up when the locker opened and his Adidas gym bag was placed near him.

“Jean, c’mon.” Connie sat beside him on the bench and peeled off his sweat-strained shirt. “You’re a shit liar and you’ve been moody all day. So, what is it?” He tossed the garment towards his own bag.

Jean grunted.  _No fucking way_  was he telling Connie anything. The only reason he’d even agreed to hang out was to distract himself. From what, Jean wasn’t entirely sure, but he knew sitting alone in an empty apartment would undoubtedly cause his mind to wander. He didn’t want that.

“You’re clearly imagining things,” Jean murmured through clenched teeth. He got the majority of his clothes off and in his gym bag when a hand clasped his wrist.

“Did you forget we’re best friends?” Connie squeezed the bony skin as his eyes narrowed. “I’m always willing to listen if you have a problem. So… stop being so damn _difficult_ and tell me what’s wrong, huh?”

A sigh exited Jean’s lips. He considered ignoring Connie completely, but he knew the other male was just trying to be supportive. He could sympathize with his plight; Jean _was_ being difficult. It wasn’t his intention, he just wasn’t too thrilled to admit the reason behind his distress.

For a moment, Jean shut his eyes.  

“Hello? _Earth to Jean Kirschstein_.” He heard Connie’s slightly annoyed tone. Jean promptly lifted his lids again.

“Are you gonna talk to me or not?”

Jean looked at Connie for a few, silent moments. He knew telling him wouldn’t be _so_ bad; the guy was his best friend. It was just an uncomfortable topic to discuss.

Jean breathed out in defeat. “Dude, okay… Don’t you dare laugh.” He made sure his seriousness was conveyed. “And don’t tell Jaeger. The girls, either.”

He placed his palm atop Connie’s shoulder and stared hard at him.

“What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this locker room, okay?”

Connie’s eyes widened a little and he smirked. “So it’s _that_ serious? What, are ya homesick or something? Missin’ Mama Kirschstein?”

At the mention of _that woman_ , Jean wrinkled his nose. “Shut the hell up, Connie. No.” He groaned and took a second to mentally prepare for what he was about to say.

“It’s Armin, dude. I’ve been, uh…. having some weird dreams about him.” He couldn’t meet his eyes. “You get me?”

His friend chuckled. “I’d like to say so by the way you’re acting but…. What kind of dreams?”

Jean remained silent, but the rapid reddening of his cheeks was enough to give it away. A fraction of a second ticked by before Connie’s chuckle erupted into a _howling_ guffaw.

Jean expression was sour when he looked at him.

“W-Wait…” The boy spoke through his mirth. “You’ve been having _SEX DREAMS_ about Armin?! Holy shit, Jean… That’s fucking rich!” He clutched his bare stomach and doubled over.

“Try’na tell the whole gym, Connie? Shut up!” Jean’s glare intensified. He shoved Connie hard enough for him to teeter and nearly fall off the bench. “Didn’t I say  _not_  to laugh?”

“I’m sorry!” Connie was trying to regain his composure. “But you have to admit it  _is_  pretty hilarious.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Jean lifted his hips so he could tug down his basketball shorts. He glanced up as a hand clapped on his shoulder.

“So, _what happened_ in these dreams?”

Jean stared at Connie in disbelief. “Are you seriously asking? Fuck off, man. I’m not telling you.”

He fetched a clean towel from the rack mounted at the end of the row of lockers.

“Excuse me, I’m gonna go shower.”

“I’m coming, too!” Connie popped up and took a towel for himself, hastily shedding off his remaining clothes. “What’s so bad about telling me? It’s not like they really happened~”

Jean ignored him and started his trek to the showers on the other side of the locker room. He tried not to think about the filth on the tiled floor touching the bottoms of his feet.

“And even if they _did_  happen,” Connie continued as he followed behind Jean, “I tell you about me and Sash all the time!”

The taller boy sighed in irritation. “Yeah, but do I ever _ask_ to hear about that? It’s fucking gross. She’s like my sister.”

Connie wrapped his towel around his hips. “Fine, _don’t_ tell me.” He walked up so he was at Jean’s side. “But why bring it up then?”

“I’m trying to explain the reason I’m upset.  _That’s_  why.” Jean scoffed and stepped into the cubical shower closest to him. The showers at this gym were separated, thankfully; The walls didn’t reach the ceiling, so the top of Jean’s head poked out. Connie, meanwhile, was invisible.

Jean moved under the chrome faucet and turned on the water. “So… Ever since these dreams started, I’ve been doing my best to avoid Armin.” Just saying that renewed Jean’s guilt.

“Yeah, I kinda noticed. Why?”

“Well…” _‘Well, I feel gross for dreaming about being unfaithful to the boyfriend I’m not even sure I have.’_ Jean knew he couldn’t tell him that. Not only had Connie disapproved of Marco from the start, he also didn’t know they were even still acquainted. No doubt his friend would be angry if he uncovered the truth. Sighing, Jean squeezed some soap onto his loofah and lathered it up.

“I don’t know… I guess I’ve been feelin’ shy.” He shut his eyes briefly. “And I’m pretty sure no one’s written a book on how to act around your roommate after you’ve dreamt of fucking them. On more than one occasion.” Jean ran the sponge along his arm, silently praying Connie wouldn’t start laughing again. He’d faced enough humiliation for one day.

He didn’t laugh, though. Connie sounded oddly sympathetic when he said, “I feel you”. What came next betrayed it entirely.

“But Jean, you’ve been acting like a complete ass,” his friend chided. Jean was glad he couldn’t see his face as he continued to wash his upper body.

“I overheard you and Armin this morning. He seemed pretty upset.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jean clenched his jaw. He was already aware of the predicament he’d created. He didn’t need a rehashing to make him feel worse about it. “Your point?”

“My point is, it’s really dumb to treat Armin like shit  _just_  because you’re embarrassed.” Connie sighed. “For fuck’s sake, dude. He’s _crushing on you_ , and he’s probably feeling really shoved aside right now.”

Jean groaned, ignoring the soap covering his hand when he pressed his fingers to his temple. Enduring Connie’s scolding was causing a serious pain in his head.

“Don’t you think I’ve been considering all this? I _know_ I’ve been a dick to him.” Jean was suddenly fond of watching the water slink into the drain near his feet. His next words were significantly more quiet. “…And yeah, I’m not stupid. I can kinda tell about the crush thing…” Saying it that plainly made it feel like a line was being approached that they’d not previously crossed.

“What do I do, Con?”

The other male took some moments to think. Jean continued washing himself with the loofah, relishing the scent of cucumbers that wafted about the cubical.

“Well,” Connie grabbed his attention again. “I think Armin mentioned he’s getting off at eight tonight.”

Jean slicked back his sopping hair. “Yeah, he switched shifts with someone.” He stepped beneath the spray again and raised his brows even though Connie couldn’t see him.  “You’re not suggesting I go up there, are you?”

Connie snickered audibly. “I actually am. Go apologize for being a dick. It’ll be a lot more impactful if it’s in person.”

The suggestion was reasonable, but Jean still felt wary. He gave a whiff to his pits to make sure they smelled okay, then shut off the shower.

“I apologized this morning.” It had been flimsy, though. If Connie had indeed overheard them as he said, he was aware of that. Jean grabbed his towel and dried off his hair.

“Well I still think you should go.” Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Connie vacate the shower with a towel around his small body. “Maybe take him up on his movie offer?”

Jean grunted, brushing passed his roommate on his way out of the shower. “Why are you pushing this so hard? If you want it so bad, you go.”

“I’m pushing it because Armin’s my friend, dude. Naturally I wanna see him happy.” Connie lightly touched the scar on his forearm (he’d acquired it from a lacrosse game gone wrong) and shot Jean an incriminating look. “I think we both know it’d mean more if you went. It’s _your_ mess.”   

Jean exhaled deeply as they journeyed back to their locker. He couldn’t decide if Armin was the first person he wanted to see right then or the last. It was true, he did need to properly make amends, but that could easily be done when the boy arrived home later that night. Jean would feel much more comfortable spending his evening in bed, accompanied by his laptop and a few cans of beer.

“I’m just gonna wait for him at home,” Jean stated, taking the clothes he had on before they started working out in his hands. He could feel his inner self scolding the cowardly decision.

\---

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 18 th: 8:27PM**

Jean told Connie, and himself, that he was going home, so it was incomprehensible that he’d done the opposite. An unknown force prompted Jean to drive right up to VC Mall’s _Olive Garden_ that evening.

He hoped to catch Armin as he was getting off and was prepared to chalk his being there up to wanting to see the new releases in FYE if asked.

It was becoming apparent that luck wasn’t on his side. Of course, it was Eren-fucking-Jaeger who he ran into instead, and of course, he utilized his opportunity to be a _condescending little cunt_ when he guessed Jean was there looking for Armin.

He seemed to take personal enjoyment in telling Jean Armin was currently meeting someone at the _Starbucks_ upstairs. He was sure to withhold the information concerning _who it was_.

“Oh, did you wanna see him?” Eren had folded his arms and smirked while he taunted him. “Well, you should’ve thought of that _before_ you decided to treat my best friend like a fucking floor mat.”

Jean’s jaw clenched just thinking about it. Eren must’ve known what would happen when he told him that. Jean was impulsive, and in that moment, the best solution was to flip Eren off and climb the escalator in giant strides.

Only when he reached Starbucks did Jean think, maybe, he should’ve taken a more tactful approach. But he was already there, and his chance to apologize to Armin was within grasp. Hopefully, Eren only added that part about the other person to teach him a lesson.

Jean’s breath was sharp as he approached the shop’s open entrance. He spared a glance to the floor-length window and was startled by what he saw. All Jean could think was _‘screw Eren for being right’._

Armin was seated at the window-side table while he sipped what appeared to be a venti iced coffee.

Jean’s eyes lingered on his face for a moment. He was smiling widely like he was _ecstatic_ to be there. Jean could only guess why. Across from him was a male – Jean was unable to see his face from his position –  with a large build and dark hair peeking out of his beanie.

_‘What the fuck?’_

He didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Armin surely wasn’t seeing anyone. It wouldn’t make any sense if he was. Jean may’ve been keen on denying it, but there was definitely something between them. It wasn’t hard to pick up on.

He studied the pair for a bit longer as he pondered whether he should barge in or not. He could hear the voice of his anger management counselor telling him to _think before he acted_. That might’ve been the wiser option, but Jean needed instant gratification.

There was _the boy he liked_ on a coffee date with someone else. The sight evoked many feelings, among them an intense dose of _jealousy_.

_‘Fuck this.’_

He thundered his way into the _Starbucks_ and realization settled immediately. Jean recognized the elongated, slightly-tanned face and the plethora of tattoos covering muscled arms – but it didn’t quell his confusion.

_‘The fuck is he doing with Bertholdt?’_

For a moment, Jean just stared unmoving, then he met Bertholdt’s eyes and the two males exchanged a look. The dark-haired man seemed confused.

Jean began a determined walk to the table for two just as a blond head turned in his direction, curious about what had grabbed Bertholdt’s attention.

Armin wrinkled his brow. He was too stunned to properly greet him, though Jean hadn’t expected it. He didn’t know _what_ he expected from this.

“Jean, um, hi…” Armin said in his soft voice, looking at him with blatant confusion. “What are you doing here?”

Jean’s own expression didn’t lose its bitterness. “Eren told me you’d be here. He didn’t mention Bertholdt, though...” He gave the large man a brief look of acknowledgement, then his eyes returned to Armin. “Sorry to intrude on your date or whatever.”

Jean didn’t realize how much it would hurt saying that word aloud. “I thought we needed to talk, so… here I am.”

He didn’t miss the blush that appeared on Armin’s cheeks. There was a flash of anger on the androgynous features. Bertholdt coughed and glanced off to the side, clearly flustered by Jean’s assumption.

“Okay, first of all, this isn’t a date,” Armin corrected him, his elbows resting on the table’s surface. “And secondly, I… Yeah, I agree. There are… things that need ironing out.” His eyes settled on the man across from him. “But Bertholdt agreed to see the movie with me and it starts in an hour. You’re gonna have to wait.”

Surely, Jean wasn’t imagining the spite in Armin’s words. _‘He’s going with Bertholdt? The actual fuck?’_ He knew he did poorly at masking his rage, but he didn’t care.

If Armin could flaunt the fact that he was going to a movie with someone else, Jean could certainly be pissed about it.

The hazel-eyed boy clenched his jaw and his fingers curled inward. “Oh, is that so?” The words left him stiffly. “Then I guess I’ll see you at home.”

He gave his roommate one last sharpened look as he turned on his heel, deciding to grab a drink before he left. He wanted to make Armin and Bertholdt uncomfortable by his lingering presence.

Jean was convinced there were eyes on his back as he stalked towards the register. He tried to appear calm while ordering an iced latte, but he wasn’t sure how well that was executed.

He had to check, and check again, that he was out of earshot before producing his phone. When he was sure, he entered an unsettlingly familiar number into the dial pad.

Jean counted six rings before it reached voicemail.

_‘Of course.’_

_“Hey, this is Marco!”_ The guy’s voice was crusted in sugar. _“I’m not here right now, so leave some info and I’ll get back to you, ‘kay? Thank you, bye!”_

Jean pursed his lips, sighing into the phone as he awaited the standard ‘beep’.

“Hey, Marco… It’s me, Jean.” His eyes were on the barista that was fixing his beverage.

“I’d really like to talk. I miss you, man. Please, call me back, okay?” He considered referring to him by a pet name, but Jean felt that ship had sailed long ago.

\---

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 18 th: 8:55PM**

“That was... weird, huh?”

Armin swallowed some of his iced coffee and his arms folded over the table.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” His voice was genuinely apologetic. “I don’t know why Jean just… showed up like that. As if he has any right…”

Bertholdt definitely noticed the boy’s irritation. He blinked, looking at him thoughtfully.

“Is everything okay between you two?”

Armin glanced downward. He knew it wasn’t; Jean had been inexplicably acting like an avoidant asshole ever since he got back. His feelings were hurt because, as much as he mulled over it, Armin couldn’t come up with a reason. Surely, he’d not done anything to upset him in this small duration of time. He and Jean hadn’t even spent much time together since the day he came home.

Armin sighed and sucked his lip into his mouth. Thinking about it evoked anger, but also a definite bout of sadness and that feeling he got when someone made it clear they didn’t want him around.  

“I suppose things are just… complicated right now,” he muttered in a quiet tone. It was the only way he really knew how to put it. _Complicated_ was explanatory enough.

“He seemed bothered that we’re together right now,” Bertholdt pointed out. He drank in his Frappuccino though the straw. “Did you want to catch him before he leaves? We can take a raincheck on the movie, or… you could take him instead.” His smile was but a whisper on his face.

Armin shook his head. He was still immensely upset with Jean and felt he was undeserving of his presence. He was perfectly fine with freezing him out until they resolved things.

“No, it’s fine.” Armin smiled a little in return. He hoped Bertholdt detected his desire to close the subject. “I’m having fun right now. Why mess that up?”


	12. Supernova

* * *

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 18 TH: 10:21PM**

**[iMessage from Freckles]**

_Hey Jean!_  
_I got your voicemail. I’m really sorry I can’t talk rn but I can probably call you sometime tomorrow  
I miss you too… :( _

Jean had been staring at his phone for a worryingly long amount of time. He knew he should reply to the message; the longer he took, the less likely it was that Marco would even see it. But, the more time that passed, the more Jean started to wonder if there was even a _point._

These days, It was always the same, upsetting process. Jean reached his voicemail after calling, (at least twice) and Marco would respond with a text saying he was busy, usually an hour later.

Jean knew of the military’s strict rules, but he refused to believe it was so bad that his lover was unable to hold a decent phone conversation.

It was all becoming exhausting to deal with.

With a sigh, Jean composed a reply to the text. He felt as if he should, because, as infuriated as he may’ve been, there was a part of him that cared for the guy. Jean might’ve even _loved_ him, though that was a can of worms he was reluctant to open.

_‘But…do I love him?’_

For a moment, Jean shut his eyes to think. A certain memory surfaced and he was too weak to shoo it away.

_\---_

_“You sure do have a lot of those,” Jean remarked, the tips of his fingers tracing a muscled arm. He marveled the dark brown freckles that littered Marco’s torso. “More than I imagined.”_

_“You imagined?” That made him blush, which was endearingly cute. There were s_ o many _things about Marco that were endearingly cute, Jean started to realize. He wanted to learn all of them._

_“Of course I imagined,” Jean muttered in a shy voice. His hand left Marco’s bicep to rest upon his hip. He yanked him flush against his body, the other teen’s spine and backside curving into him like the perfect fit._

_Jean’s lips were at his neck. “I’ve had, what, four years? Yeah… Since the first time I saw you at that away game.” The admittance was notably bashful. “I imagined what you’d look like beneath all those clothes...”_

_Both boys were blushing deeply. Jean softly pressed his lips against the back of his neck._

_“I imagined what it’d be like to kiss you, too.”_

_“Well, now you know,” Marco said in his sweet voice, “I suppose congratulations are in order, Jean.”_

_He turned slightly to kiss him full on the mouth, urging the other body to lie atop his. The way their skin slid together was obscenely_ sensual _to Jean. He allowed himself to straddle Marco’s lower half._

_The sheepish feeling reappeared as he gazed into the eyes that stared back at him with just as much affection._

_“Marco, I….”_

_But Jean didn’t speak his mind, which was abnormal for him. He instead caressed the ripples of his abdomen and watched his lover wet his lip._

_“What is it?” Marco’s smile didn’t seem inappropriate somehow. Jean was awestruck at how a person could be so effortlessly perfect._

_When he sat up with Jean in his lap, the other male’s arms circled his shoulders._

_“I just…” Jean paused. “want you right now.” He breathed against his mouth, groaning the slightest bit when Marco’s length pressed against the globes of his ass. He felt it thicken just from the contact._

_Marco kissed him chastely and reached to the bedside table. He did well at concealing his difficulty when he blindly groped for a moment, resurfacing with a small bottle of lubricant._

_“It’d be a disservice to both of us to refuse you.”_

_His hand descended to the small of Jean’s back._

_\---_

Jean remembered almost saying it that night. _I love you._ He hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment, which was what he told himself each time they dallied after that, too.

Three months stretched on to more, and they always followed the same routine. They’d go for a drive and then end up in a bed. Usually, Marco’s, since his dad worked overnight at the subway station near his house.

Jean glanced at what he’d typed, suddenly backspacing so there was nothing there again. He knew what had to be done.

His future with Marco was looking bleaker than usual these days. Jean was reluctant to admit it.

He stupidly thought that, once he landed the guy of his dreams, all the rest would fall into place. But Marco wasn’t _gay_. He was the star of his rival school’s football team and had an image to uphold.

He’d told Jean all this many times, and Jean tried to fool himself into thinking it was okay.

With shaking fingers, he finally typed what his heart was screaming at him to say.

_I’m sorry too. But this isn’t working anymore._

Four years he’d crushed on Marco from afar and then, seven months they’d seen each other.

Jean had to ask himself if he was _really ready_ to end it. He knew what the alternative would be – more weeks of ignored calls, dismissive texts and _missing him_.

And more guilt that Jean had developed feelings for someone else.

He sighed again as he pressed the ‘send’ button. The blue text bubble indicated the message had been delivered and Jean felt a pang in his heart.

 _‘It’s done…’_ He sat down his phone, reaching to the coffee table for the remote to the Bose speakers on the TV stand. He turned up the volume as they blared out “Yesterday” by The Beatles.

Jean groaned at the choice of song.

_Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play._

\---

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 19 TH: 12:16AM**

Armin stabbed his teeth into his lip and sighed. “God... this rain is really persistent.” He watched a single droplet hit the window and slink down in a gradual motion.

The rain started hours before when they first left the mall and hadn’t let up in its intensity. Armin was grateful for his safe position in Bertholdt’s car for the time being.

“It might be another summer storm,” his companion said. A large hand dug into the Z-Burger bag beside the cupholder and grabbed some fries.

Armin tilted his head. “That would suck…” He pouted slightly. “Y’know, I do like rain but it’s a different story when it’s pouring on my head while I’m trying to live my life.”

Bertholdt chuckled at his response. “I feel that. I have a weirdly large selection of umbrellas in the back.” He jerked his head towards the backseat. “Feel free to grab one when I drop you off.”

Armin let out a dramatized sigh of relief. “You saved me, Bertl. I absolutely _hate_ being in wet clothes, even if it’s just for a second.”

Briefly, Armin’s thoughts went to the night after his date with Jean. The rain had been just like this. They’d shared Jean’s umbrella while they sped into their apartment together. Armin might’ve smiled at the memory if he wasn’t currently pissed at him.

“So… I know this is random and unrelated,” Bertholdt turned his green eyes on the boy when they came to a red light. “but I finally broke up with Reiner.”

The expression he wore wasn’t one Armin could read easily, but he would assume he was meant to applaud him. From what he knew of Reiner, the guy had been Bertholdt’s high school boyfriend and their relationship was _toxic_ to say the least.

Reiner was extremely possessive, which only posed more of a problem when he moved away. Bertholdt was constantly being accused of infidelity. He also was subject to _a lot_ of his verbal abuse. Armin was glad he got himself out of that situation.

The boy donned a genuine smile when he looked back at him. “Really?” He gently patted his arm. “That’s great! I was worried about you, y’know, but I’m happy you finally did it.”

That seemed to surprise Bertholdt. He looked away and blinked at the road. “Y-You… You worried about me?” he wondered timidly.

‘ _God… He really is cute when he gets flustered.’_ Armin’s smile grew a fraction. He squeezed the man’s arm once before letting go.

“It’s natural to worry about your friends,” he said simply, “so, yeah, I worried.”

He knew Bertholdt had only just gotten out of a relationship, and he would assume it’d take some time before he was ready for another emotional commitment. Armin would have to swallow the attraction for now and keep his pursuits friendly.

But, he’d admit, it was nice spending time with someone who actually _wanted him around._

“Well, thank you,” Bertholdt said gratefully, though the shyness endured.

 

About ten minutes and they arrived at TSU’s housing district. Bertholdt drove his car into Armin’s complex and pulled around to the front of his building.

Armin couldn’t say he felt like locating his keys in the depths of his backpack but he knew it was too late to disturb his roommates by calling up, even if the probability of them being awake was high.

He grabbed his backpack from beneath his feet and turned to the man in the driver’s seat. Bertholdt was smiling slightly at him. They both started to speak at once.

“I had fun— _oh_.”

Armin laughed as he unzipped his backpack and started to dig around for his keys. “Well, okay… We should definitely do this again, huh?” He grinned.

Bertholdt found humor in this as well. He mirrored Armin’s grin as he nodded. “Yeah, we should.”

Armin watched him reach into the backseat and retrieve a dark blue umbrella. He smiled appreciatively as he accepted it.

“Well, have a good night.” Armin opened the umbrella when he started to climb out of the car.

 Bertholdt lifted his hand in a wave. “You too, Armin. I hope you sort out whatever’s bothering you with Jean.”

 _‘Me too.’_ Armin closed the door and turned to face his apartment building.

He held the umbrella over his head, hearing the rain as it pattered against it. He was thankful he remained dry.

Bertholdt drove away when Armin unlocked the entrance to his building with his sensor and walked into the lobby.

It was empty aside from the elderly mm at the front desk. Armin greeted him kindly as he approached the elevators. He brought out his phone to check the time.

_12:49 a.m._

He almost considered texting Jean to make sure he was awake, but he realized that was probably a bit too abrasive. It wouldn’t even be five minutes before he physically saw him. Armin was just naturally impatient.

He boarded the elevator and moved to study his reflection in the mirrored wall.

Armin had untucked his uniform shirt and undid the top two buttons. The sleeves were rolled up. Looking at his forearm, Armin pondered how it might look with a tattoo.

He remembered his father had one in the same spot: a simple, black ankh. That was one of the only memories of Kurt Arlert that wasn’t attached to something far more _unpleasant._

There was a ‘ping’ and the motion of the doors opening to indicate his arrival at the third floor.

Armin paced down the hall, clasping the key he’d painted with a blue stripe so he knew it was to his apartment.

He unlocked the door and slipped inside, immediately spotting Connie’s back at the stove some yards over. He was tending to a pot with a fork.

“Hey, Con,” Armin called out as he toed off the black shoes he wore for work. He removed his backpack as well and sat it by the door.

Connie turned away from the stove and smiled at him. “Hey, you’re home!” His elation was clear. “I worried that you took so long but Jean told me you were out with a friend.”

He poured the ramen he’d prepared into a bowl and placed the fork inside of it.

“So... What friend?” His smile took form into a smirk. “Not gonna lie, bro, I kinda thought you’d be going with Jean.”

Armin did his best to ignore the implication in his words. _‘Why would he think that?’_ He insistently shook his head.

“It was nothing. I just went to a movie with Bertholdt.” He walked towards Connie and leaned on the island counter. “We work in the same building and our shifts always coincide so we hang out a lot.” Armin chewed his bottom lip.

“Oh, makes sense.”  Connie sat down next to him with his food. There was a pack of Mike’s Hard Lemonade on the countertop. Amin grabbed two in his hands and offered one to Connie.

He wasn’t usually one for the consumption of alcohol, but the boy felt he needed a drink.

“So, um,” Armin twisted off the cap and peered down at the yellow liquid. “Is Jean still awake?”

Connie lowered his drink after sipping and wiped the corner of his mouth.

“The last time I saw him was an hour ago. He came out here for a snack.” He turned and looked at Armin. “He seemed really… I don’t know, out of it? Something’s clearly bothering him and he doesn’t like going to sleep upset so I’m assuming yes. He’s probably up.”

Armin’s mind worked over what Connie said. _‘He’s upset about something.’_ He drank some of  the alcoholic beverage and exhaled. _‘Is it because of me and Bertholdt?’_

Armin couldn’t imagine Jean still felt badly over that. Surely, by now, he’d gotten over it, but it was the only explanation he could come up with as to why he might be upset.

_‘Why do I even care? Jean screwed me over.’_

Despite the thought, Armin knew he did. It was discomforting (and very much like him) that he managed to feel concern even after he’d been treated so slightly _._

If Eren was here, he’d probably tell him to _stop_ putting others before himself, but it was difficult when Armin held his wellbeing at such a _low_ standard.

The blond gripped tightly to his lemonade.  “I think... I’m gonna go say ‘hey’.”

Relief broke on Connie’s face at his words. “Yes, go do that,” he urged. “Maybe he’ll even tell you why he’s upset.”

Armin swigged his drink and looked at him thoughtfully. “Maybe.” He tilted his head. “But I wouldn’t get my hopes up. I highly doubt Jean would wanna talk to _me_ about that.”

He didn’t mention Jean had been the one to say they needed to talk before because he knew Connie would pry. Armin wasn’t in the mood to share something that currently felt so _private._

The other boy looked at him like he was actually stupid. “Dude, you’re so pessimistic.” He shook his head with a small laugh. It seemed like he was preparing to say something, but then he didn’t.

“Just go talk to him. Please. We’re both clearly worried.”

Armin sighed again. He finished what remained of his drink and placed it, along with the three empty bottles on the counter, in the recycle bin.

“Let’s just hope he’s awake,” Armin said. He crossed the room and spared Connie a quick smile before disappearing into the hallway.

Armin didn’t bother turning on the ceiling lamp. He could see well enough in the semi-darkness blanketing the narrow space. He noticed Jean’s door was cracked and a sliver of light peeked out.

 _‘Oh, thank God.’_ Relieved, he approached the door with careful and light steps.

Armin poked his head in the small opening of the door and pushed at it.

“Hey... Jean?”

His roommate was on his bed with his sketchbook, humming along to a tune coming from his bluetooth speakers. Armin didn’t recognize it. It sounded like one of those soft love songs Jean would usually be criticizing someone for listening to.

When he noticed Armin, his fingers halted and he closed his sketchbook.

“Oh. You’re back.” Jean peered up at the boy and studied him with steady eyes. “Hey.”

The weight of his mood was felt when Armin walked more into his room. He smoothed down his hair.

“Yeah… Um, it’s good you’re still awake.” He stood awkwardly next to his bed. “Can I sit?”

Jean nodded. There was brief hesitance before Armin complied. He lowered onto the memory foam mattress and sat against the headboard, his shoulder nearly touching Jean’s.

“So,” the boy began quietly.

Jean moved only his eyes to look at him. “Did you have fun on your date?” The barbed edge to his question was unmistakable. Armin’s eyes narrowed on instant.

“I _told_ you it wasn’t a date,” the blond reiterated, bothered. “Stop assuming everything. You know that saying ‘assuming makes an ass out of you and me’? Well, you’re the only ass here.” He crossed his legs at the ankle.

A chuckle bubbled from Jean’s lips and he shook his head. “Yes, I know of the saying. But it’s not funny when you _explain_ it, ‘Min.”

“You’re laughing,” Armin pointed out, feeling a tad bit smug.

Jean spoke darkly. “I’m laughing ‘cause you’re an actual fail at making jokes.” He sighed. “But I think we both know that’s beside the point.”

“Yeah, it is.” Armin stared at the Arctic Monkeys poster on the wall in front of them. “There are… some things we need to talk about.”

The air felt think between them. Armin didn’t like it.

“I think the most practical way is to take turns discussing what’s bothering us.”

Jean momentarily rolled his eyes up. The room was silent aside from the soft sound the ceiling fan made as it spun.

“That’s fine,” his roommate agreed, breathing through his nose. Their eyes met again and the blond started to idly worry his lip.

“I’m gonna go first because I have a pretty good idea why you’re upset and well… I feel like what I’m ‘bout to say will give you clarity.” Jean blinked. “At least I hope so.”

“I hope so too.” Armin noticed the turbulence in his friend’s disposition and felt the faintest urge to hold his hand. He ignored it.

“I… broke up with Marco,” Jean said after a pause. He spoke firmly even as _discomfort_ was written on his face.

Armin was confused about how the statement related to how he was feeling.

“Marco…” He pronounced his name. “That’s the guy in the military, right?”

Jean eyes moved down. For a moment, there was no verbal response, then he uttered a quiet “yeah”. 

“What happened?” Despite everything, Amin was curious. He figured it might shed some light on the reason Jean had been so avidly avoiding him.

 _‘Maybe he’s just been sad.’_ He blinked over at the other boy.

Jean didn’t requite the gaze. He seemed intent on staring into his lap.

“Nothing to speak of, really. I guess I was fed up. I’ve put him on this pedestal and… Well, you _know_ how he’s been treating me.”

Slender fingers curled into a fist to stop the quaking. “I don’t think he had bad intentions, so that’s something. But it got to the point where our relationship…” Speaking this way clearly brought him distress. “It was basically just this pile of shit covered in glitter.”

That was when Jean lifted his head. He looked Armin in the face for a few, silent seconds and Armin saw the extent of his strife.

He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to comfort him.

“It’s always been like that,” Jean continued dejectedly, “I was so insistent on denying it before… I guess I kinda just put it out of my mind.”

Armin noticed the clench in his jaw when he turned away. For that moment, he would have to set his previous feelings aside.

“Jean…” Armin addressed him gently. “I know it must suck that you lost someone important… But what you guys had going on was _toxic_.”

He leaned forward and stared at the side of his face. “You should be proud of yourself for getting out of that situation.” Unbidden, a dainty hand moved to rest upon his shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s what I keep tellin’ myself.” Jean looked over at him again, seeming uncertain of his next words, but he eventually gained his resolve.

“It was hopeless. I had to end it… I was… starting to feel guilty.”

Armin’s fingers fell from his shoulder. “Why?”

“Well, uh…” Jean was uncharacteristically nervous then. He drew in a breath, keeping their eyes locked, though it was visible his earlier determination had faltered.

“I couldn’t continue being with Marco when… I… I-I have, um, these... _feelings_.” His fingers touched his temple.

“Fuck. I swear, this sounded so much better in my head...” Jean wordlessly stared at him, then seemed to find the courage he needed.

“Okay, let me just start over.” A deep blush appeared on his cheeks.

Armin would like to say he was completely oblivious to what Jean was trying to tell him, but he had a few ideas and they all pointed in one direction.

Unconsciously, the boy’s hand rose and he began to nip the pad of his thumb.

_‘Just say it already...’_

Jean’s gaze briefly flicked to his thumb, then they returned to look into Armin’s eyes.

“I know I’ve been… making a point to avoid you lately,” he said, seemingly more sure of himself, “I guess I was scared. Like I said, Armin… I ‘ve been, um, having these feelings. It’s been hard for me to keep on seeing Marco when I—”

There was a pause, then Jean resumed speaking. “I just… I, uh… like someone else.”

The confession came out and Armin’s eyes widened despite having suspected he’d say something along those lines.

“Someone… else?” Armin repeated, his voice betrayingly shy. He found he was actually _frozen_ when Jean moved his thumb away from his mouth.

“Yeah…” the other boy affirmed. His face was about as red as his pajama shirt. Armin would assume he wasn’t much better.

“It’s you, Armin.” Jean gazed at him with bashful affection.

“You’re the one I… _Fuck_. Y-You know what I’m trying to say, yeah?” Jean shot his eyes away in embarrassment.

Armin knew how deep his blush probably was, but he forcibly put that aside. The boy leaned his weight on his flattened palm with his legs bent at his side. 

“Jean…?”

Apparently, his confidence returned enough to catch Armin’s gaze again.

“Okay, this is fucking ridiculous. I… I uh,” Slowly, Jean’s hand came up to brush Armin’s hair from his face.

“I like you, okay?” His demeanor was unwavering.

It was as if the world went on pause. Hearing that aloud, Armin would admit, differed from what his imagination came up with, but it still flustered Armin so _severely._

“Y-You…” Now, it was Armin’s turn to trip over his words. “Um, Jean… Okay… But you’ve been acting distant and… That’s the reason?”

Jean nodded slowly. “I know this sounds fucking stupid but… I realized I have all these feelings for you. I didn’t know how to tell you and I didn’t want to lie to you, either.”

A soft sigh heaved from his lips. “I guess, in my mind, that meant I had to stay away.”

Jean shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m just really sorry, Armin… Honest. I never meant to be an asshole, but you know sometimes I do it without realizing.”

When he opened his eyes, Jean gazed down at the blond with genuine remorse.

Armin didn’t expect hearing Jean’s confession would have such an _effect_ on him. He tentatively covered a larger hand with his own and swallowed a lump that rose in his throat.

“I… I feel the same about you,” he heard himself mumble, observing the cocky smile that lit Jean’s features after he said it.

“Mm, yeah, I figured as much.” His roommate turned slightly so their bodies faced one another, smirking at him.

“You’re not really all that discreet, ‘Min.”

Armin’s eyes narrowed. “Well, neither are you!” He shoved Jean’s shoulder, causing him to reel backward. The taller male cursed and steadied himself.

“I’ve _seen_ you check me out,” Armin accused, “and what was that angel toy about, huh?”

He nearly choked on his saliva when he felt hands gripping him by his sides.

“You just…” Armin pointedly looked away when Jean’s smirk intensified.

“I just what?” he asked.

The boy was ready to be angry when he shifted his eyes back, but he hadn’t anticipated his capture by the _warmth_ exuding from Jean’s being.

Despite himself, Armin smiled.

The sight was enough to pull one to Jean’s lips as well. He made an endearing show of his teeth and the single dimple on his left cheek. Armin was sure he was going to melt from the inside.

“Kiss me.” His demand was soft. It took Armin saying it for him to realize how much he desired that level of intimacy with Jean.

His lids instinctively lowered at the sensation of the other’s thumb tracing the suppleness of his bottom lip.

Jean whispered something unintelligible just before heeding the request and _kissing him._

Their mouths fell into one another and it was as if every ounce of pent up tension was released in that instant. Armin surely felt electric currents running through their lips.

Jean’s fingers laced through his and Armin held their hands next to his heart. He kissed him slowly – shyly; almost – , with all the inexperience of someone who could count their kisses on one hand. He matched Jean’s passion, though.

Armin parted his lips, pressing himself close as their mouths molded over each other. The hand sinking in his hair was what prompted Armin to draw back, effectively breaking the contact between them.

Jean was confused by the abruptness. “…What?” He peered down at him, his entire face flushed with blood. “Is something wrong? Did I—”

“No, you didn’t.” There was a moment’s hesitation before Armin fell onto Jean’s chest, shutting his eyes and allowing himself this small, sweet indulgence. 

“That was just… a lot.” His lips still tingled with the memory of the kiss. Armin found himself smiling discreetly.

“I haven’t really kissed that many people before.” Embarrassment trickled in at the confession. He tried not to think too much about exactly _who_ he’d kissed in the past. “So… It was a little overwhelming.”

Jean petted his hair affectionately. “Oh… Okay. We can slow down.”

Armin had to lean back so he could see his face. His eyes narrowed at the smile creeping onto Jean’s lips.

“What, is this funny to you?”

His defensiveness amused Jean further. The blond relaxed his expression when hands cupped his cheeks.

“‘Course not,” he said, “It’s actually endearing. And really fucking adorable.” He chuckled. “But no, it’s just that… Okay, I know this is hella sappy, but I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now.”

A cockeyed grin landed on Jean’s face as he pushed Armin’s cheeks in, making his lips pucker as a result. “So I’m just glad.”

Armin observed his face. It was laughable that Jean considered himself to be mean when his true nature was so visible. A chuckle escaped as the blond shooed his hands away, bringing his face back to its normal appearance.

“Wow, for real?” Armin tilted his head some. “You’re not wrong, Jean. That is sappy.”

He placed a hand on Jean’s shoulder and craned up to softly peck him on the lips. When he pulled back, both boys were smiling.


	13. Back Against A Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, loves! Thanks for sticking around for another update <3 I very much appreciate it, like you have no idea. Sometimes I get insecure that no one really reads this but my love and NEED to tell this story is so strong that it always manages to overcome that in the end. 
> 
> So yeah, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who’s reading this. Love you guys!

**MONDAY, AUGUST 21 st: 1:34PM**

That Monday started the first semester at Trost State and to say Armin was excited would be the understatement of the century. The boy felt most at peace in a classroom setting –  The fact that his first course was unrelated to his major (Calculus II) hardly disrupted his high spirits. Armin was just ecstatic to attend the university he’d been pining over since basically the beginning of time.

He studiously read the class syllabus a second time then bade Professor Zacharias a farewell on his way out of the room. His _Introduction to Astrophysics_ course wasn’t for twenty minutes. Armin had a mind to visit the campus coffee shop that was conveniently located nearby. Something cold and caffeinated would surely be a nice indulgence right then…

He was considering it just as a vibration went off in his pocket. Armin promptly reached inside the denim fabric, feeling himself cringe at the notification displayed on his phone screen.

 

 **[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]  
** _How was ur first class?_

 

Honestly, he could think of _so many_ people he’d rather speak to than Jean in that moment. That had been the mood for days now – more specifically, since _that Friday night_ when they had the conversation Armin couldn’t manage to stop thinking about.

He remembered precisely the panic he’d experienced when Jean looked him in the face and asked what it all meant. That, of course, made the blond recoil. He’d only just recovered from the kisses and needed time to process, which Jean hadn’t made easy at all.

\---

 _“I… don’t know,” Armin said, his eyes lowered to his knees. It hadn’t been a lie; Armin_ didn’t _know what to say to Jean’s question. Not even five minutes ago they’d kissed – twice – which evidentially created more problems than it fixed._

 _“But does it_ need _to mean something right now? I mean, yes… we like each other. I know we’ve got that out, but admitting our feelings doesn’t mean everything will just magically fall into place.” Still, the blond refused to meet Jean’s eyes. “…I think I need to think about this.”_

_There was a while when Jean didn’t vocalize his response. It appeared as if he was working over Armin’s words in his mind. He fixed him with this ‘why not?’ expression._

_“You’re making it sound like you regret it ‘Min…” Jean’s voice became uncharacteristically quiet, and to that, Armin shook his head._

_“No, I—” A slight frown formed. “That isn’t what I’m saying.” Armin tentatively lifted his hand and cupped the unexpected warmth of Jean’s cheek._

_“I just… need some time, okay?”_

_A flash of something soft appeared in Jean’s eyes that he tried to mask by speaking gruffly._

_“Okay. How long?” he questioned._

_Armin opened his mouth, then shut it again and took to worrying his lip. “You really expect me to know that right now?” His hand fell from Jean’s face._

_“I don’t know, I thought maybe…” Jean mumbled defeatedly. He brought up his head when it seemed he reached a conclusion._

_“Fine, Armin. I’ll give you space if you need. Just…”He bore intensely into turquoise eyes. “Whatever happens, know I don’t regret telling you.”_

_“Neither…” Armin agreed in an almost-whisper._

_That seemed to comfort Jean. A dopey grin sprang onto his lips. Armin dared to return it despite the tangled state his thoughts were in._

_“I should go to sleep,” he said, a glance spared to the clock-radio on Jean’s nightstand. Armin wasn’t tired in truth, he just knew it was wise to act on his better judgement and put some space between them._

_As if on cue, Jean yawned. He tilted his head and put on display the jaw that honestly looked like it was carved from marble. Armin doubted it was even legal for him to look like that._

_“Guess I should, too.” Jean ran a hand over his face. “I was waiting for you to come home but I’ve been fucking exhausted,” he admitted, his hand resting over his abdomen._

_Armin crawled out of Jean’s bed, smoothing out wrinkles that formed in his uniform._

_“Sorry,” the boy apologized, “Didn’t mean to keep you up, but I felt it was imperative we talk.”_

_Jean smiled gently at him. “It was. But, hey,” He shifted towards him on the bed. “After tomorrow, I swear, I’ll honor that whole ‘you needing time’ thing, but…” Jean cleared his throat and looked at him hopefully. “Can I… have a goodnight kiss?”_

_It was impressive that he even had the gall to ask. Armin felt light on the inside. “Do you think that’s smart, Jean?” He bit his lip when he noticed Jean’s eyes settling on his mouth none-too-discreetly._

_“Nope,” the other boy said honestly. His smile prevailed while Armin sighed, though the blond still leaned in dangerously close to him._

_“Guess it’s just an excuse to be near you again,” Jean whispered the instant before his lips sealed over Armin’s in a quick, but lingering kiss. Armin felt his insides heat up with a desire to kiss him again – deeper this time – but he made himself pull away._

_“I think…” The blond swallowed. “that’s a good note to end the night on, yes?” He stood up straighter and rubbed the side of his arm._

_Jean nodded as he went back to leaning against his headboard. He eyed Armin closely and just kept on smiling. “Goodnight then, ‘Min.”_

_“Yes, goodnight,” Armin said, bowing his head as he shuffled out of his room. The door clicked behind him._

_\---_

The memory only made the notion that he should delete the text more _intense._ After Armin left Jean’s room that night – or morning? – , they hadn’t spoken much. Armin did exceptionally well at keeping his word when he declared he needed time, and with school starting, the boy had too much on his plate to deal with someone he may or may not have kissed in the last seventy-two hours.

It helped that Jean had been home significantly less since he was assisting his family in getting ready for their cookout that Wednesday. According to Connie, The Kirschstein Cookout was an annual event to celebrate the ending of summer, and with its extensive guest list, it was obvious a large amount of preparation was due.

Armin knew his attendance was probably expected, and he gussed it had been long enough. The boy was just… scared. He was scared of what would transpire if he was forced into a conversation with Jean again. It was easy to disregard his existence when he was barely around and Armin was focused on school. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face him.

The boy sighed and looked at his phone when it vibrated again, this time with an incoming call. _Nifa Lange_ was the contact shown on his screen. _‘What?’_ Armin cocked both his eyebrows. He definitely hadn’t anticipated a call from _her_. The last time Armin spoke to his mother was over a week ago. The conversation had been awkward at best. The blond was sure to profess the unease he still felt about allowing her back into his life. It made their talks very uncomfortable –though, he wouldn’t say Nifa wasn’t trying on her end. That was at least something, he knew.

Armin answered her call on the second ring. He held the phone up and cleared his throat, stepping out of the way so other students could move passed him.

“Hello?” He spoke unsurely into the device.

 _“Armin,”_ his mother said, a smile in her voice, _“Hello. It’s wonderful to hear your voice again.”_

Armin almost rolled his eyes, but he didn’t. “You, too.” He couldn’t decide if that was a lie. “Um, is there a reason you called?”

 _“I just wanted to know how you’re doing.”_ Nifa sounded offended that he’d asked that. _“And… there’s something I need to ask you, but it can wait until later. You started at TSU today, right?”_

Armin was surprised she’d even remembered that bit of information. She was more attentive that he’d thought. “Yes,” he replied, unable to quell his excitement. It didn’t matter who he was speaking to, Armin was always glad to talk about school.

“I just finished my calculus class and I’ve got like twenty minutes to get over to the science wing.” He peered across the quad at the student union building. He knew the bulk of Jean’s courses were in the visual arts wing, but he still feared running into him.

 _“That’s great, Armin.”_ His mother sounded genuinely pleased. _“So, your next class is for your major? You’re studying astronomy, right?”_

“Astrophysics. It’s a branch of astronomy that mostly deals with the physical celestial bodies,” Armin informed, “Like stars and planets and things like that.” He began his journey down the open hallway to the science wing. It wasn’t too far, but Armin was starting to realize he wouldn’t have time for a Starbucks run as he’d thought.

“But yes. My next class is basically just an introduction to my major and then, after that, I have Physics.” He absently gripped onto the strap of his backpack as he paced along. “Ugh, Mom… I can’t even express to you how stoked I am.” He was smiling widely into the phone. “It’s finally starting to feel like… I don’t know. My dreams are within grasp.”

 _“I’m so happy for you, Armin You  should know you have my utmost support.”_ Nifa smiled as well. _“School is so important. It really is amazing to hear you’re so excited to learn.”_ She sounded impressed, which almost made him laugh.

“I’ve always been that way,” Armin said.  He had to swallow that brief bout of spite when he realized she hadn’t been around to know that about him. He stole a peek to the Target-brand watch hugging his wrist. “So, hey, what did you wanna ask?”

Nifa paused for a moment. Armin prepared himself for what she was going to say.

 _“I was thinking we could go to dinner later today,”_ she said, _“I’d really like to see you, Armin. There’s something important we need to talk about and I think it’d best be done in person.”_

 _‘Something important?’_ Her words sparked curiosity in him. Armin wondered what she meant. There had been no distinct connotation, so he couldn’t decipher it that way. He supposed he just needed to ask her.

“Okay, you’re honestly starting to scare me.” Armin rounded a corner to an even longer hallway, “What’s this about?”

Nifa took a moment in choosing her response. _“You’ll find out later,”_ she finally said, _“I promise it isn’t bad. It’s just… too serious to tell you over the phone.”_

Armin expelled a sigh when he realized his efforts were futile. “Fine, we can have dinner then.” He’d admit, he was sort of excited to see her. “My last class ends at five so maybe we could meet up around seven? That’ll give me time to go home and change.” Armin trailed through a courtyard and was relieved to see the entrance to a large, brick building on the opposite end. Just inside he knew was where his _Introduction To Astrophysics_ class was to be held. It was certainly a good thing Armin had arrived at the campus a few hours early to familiarize himself with the path between his classes.

 _“Seven is perfect,”_ Nifa was saying, her voice coming out happily. _“Armin, would you mind if we got seafood? I’ve been having a taste for tilapia.”_

“I love tilapia,” Armin said before he could stop himself. A small smile danced onto his lips  “I love seafood in general, actually, so yeah, that sounds good.”

Nifa chuckled into the phone _. “I know how you feel about seafood, Armin. Or, at least I did. Do you remember going to_ Captain George’s _for your fifth birthday?”_

Of course Armin remembered. It was one of the only clear memories of his mother that he could recall: him, his parents and his grandfather all having dinner together at _Captain George’s_ all-you-can-eat buffet. They had been happy enough before Nifa left them and his father became abusive as a result.

“I thought it was so cool that the restaurant actually looked like a sunken ship….” Armin sat on the bench in the courtyard and relished the warmth of Late-August.

 _“Even as a child, you were impressively intelligent. And a realist, too,”_ Nifa rehashed fondly, _“You outright_ refused _to believe us when we said it was a an actual ship we were eating at.”_ She laughed softly.

“I vaguely remember that,” Armin said in a murmur. There was something off-putting about hearing Nifa speak in such a way. Honestly, most attempts she made at trying to be his mother were off-putting. Armin hoped the depth of his frown was heard in his voice.

“I guess it’s just an Arlert men thing,” he commented, “Because Dad and Grandpa were similar.” He didn’t like to admit the things he had in common with Kurt Arlert, though there were many. The man _was_ his biological father.

Nifa went on talking, then paused in her speech to ask if he’d need a ride to the restaurant that evening. Armin swiped his lips with a stick of Blistex he’d produced from his pocket.

“I can get there,” he told her, “I’ll probably just Uber or ride the subway, depending on where it is.” Ordinarily, he would just bother Jean for a ride, but since they weren’t really on speaking terms it obviously wasn’t an option.

 _‘God, I really need to learn how to drive…’_ Armin thought, sighing mutely.

 _“Splendid.”_ Nifa’s smile was very much there. _“I already have an idea of where we might go so I’ll text you the details soon.”_

Armin thought it unfortunate that speaking to his mother always put him in such an emotionally-roused state. He wondered if he’d ever truly forgive her. Armin doubted it. He was already looking for a window to end the call.

“Sounds good,” the boy said in an unwitting dry voice, “Ah, Mother… Sorry, I do need to head to class, though. I have like five minutes and I still need to walk to the science wing.” He stood up, staring at the double doors to his designated building. Lies had always come easily to him, but now, Armin felt completely justified.

 _“Oh, I didn’t mean to keep you,”_ his mother said, _“Go on to class and make sure to turn off your phone, Armin.”_ Her tone grew all firm and parental, which was laughable. _“You can check my texts afterwards.”_

Armin shut his eyes against the wind that kicked back his hair. “Mm’kay.” He crouched to retie the laces on his shoe and checked his watch, noting that he had much more time to spare than just _five minutes._  

“I’ll talk to you later then, Mother,” he said, exhaling his relief when Nifa said her goodbye and ended the call quickly enough for his liking.

\---

**MONDAY, AUGUST 21 ST: 7:31PM**

Armin smoothed fingers through his hair and skimmed the appetizers on the menu before him. He couldn’t feel more out of place stuffed in some fancy  restaurant while his mother sat opposite him, dressed head-to-toe in designer clothing. It grated him severely that she seemed to be doing so _well_ financially since she’d relieved herself of her maternal duties. He spied the twinkle of diamonds on the Movado watch she seemed to be checking every thirty seconds.

“Mother,” Armin regarded her when he looked up from his menu. “Is something wrong?”

Nifa was clearly startled but she shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. Have you.. decided what you’re going to order yet?”

Armin doubted her, but something in him told him not to press. Perhaps it was that Armin still felt there were certain things she had to _earn_. His care was one of them.

  
“I think just an appetizer will suffice,” he said in a quiet voice.

“Just an appetizer?” Nifa looked at her son pointedly. “Armin, if you’re feeling uncomfortable with the pricing—”

“I am, actually.” The blond’s eyes shot back to his menu. “You know, I don’t even get why you brought me here.” His tone remained at a leveled volume, though it was clear he was upset. “We could’ve went somewhere a bit more in my price-range. _Ruby Tuesday_ has a good seafood selection.” 

Nifa seemed to be growing exasperated with him. “Armin,” She took the liberty of flipping his menu to the entrée page. “I already decided I was going to pay. You don’t need to worry about that.” She caught his eyes with her own, looking somewhat unsure before she resumed speaking. “More importantly… I brought you here because I—”

“Sorry I’m late.” It was an unfamiliar voice that claimed both their attention. Armin watched in stunned surprise as an intimidatingly tall, blond man (he had to be over six feet) in a blue suit and tie sat beside his mother at their booth. “Travelling through Trost during rush hour is no joke,” the man said, “You wouldn’t believe how long I was just sitting still.” When he kissed his mother on the cheek, Armin gawked.

_‘What the hell?’_

Evidentially, he was only a stranger to one person at the table. He watched the smile that overtook his mother’s face and his confusion only increased.

“Well, you’re here now so it’s fine, yes?” Nifa waved her hand dismissively then looked at her son again.

“Armin,” She leaned herself forward and gestured with her hands. “I wanted to acquaint you with the new man in my life. That was why I invited you to dinner.” She looked between the two blond men. “This is Erwin Smith.”

At Nifa’s introduction, the man smiled at Armin. “I’m hardly new, but yes, your mother and I are,” He briefly set his eyes on the brunette at his side. “Well, we’re very much in love.” He extended his hand for a shake. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Armin.”

 _‘Finally?’_ Not once, in all the times Armin spoke to his mother since their reunion had she mentioned _anything_ about a new relationship. Nifa could’ve easily gone about this like a respectable human being and told him beforehand – alone, where Armin could properly react – but he realized quickly his mother wasn’t that considerate.

Armin’s fingers balled into a fist beneath the table, doing his best to swallow his rage. “Well, I can’t say I was expecting _this_ when you said you had to tell me something, Mother.” He forced himself to smile back and shake Ewin’s large hand. “But it’s nice to meet you as well Mr. Smith.” _‘Though it would’ve been nicer if I had been told you were coming. Or if I knew of your existence at all.’_

“Call me Erwin.” The man chuckled, his eyes flashing slightly. “Mr. Smith sounds… extremely impersonal and it’s usually reserved for the help.”

Armin wondered if it was too early to decide he didn’t like this guy. He bit back a sigh and chose to blatantly ignore his mother’s attempt at an apologetic expression.

_‘It’s too late for that.’_

“Sorry, _Mr. Smith_ , but we only just met and I was told nothing of you until just now, so understand it’s a little weird to call you by your first name.” Armin made sure to keep his tone polite as he asserted himself.

Erwin nodded. “That’s fair, Armin. I just want us to start off on the right foot.” He displayed his pearly teeth when he smiled. Armin couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but there was something about this man that made him uncomfortable. He broke eye-contact and distracted himself with scanning the menu for something to eat. He’d not realized there  were _so many ways_ someone could prepare a fish.

Armin was torn between a lobster bake and sole when the blond man spoke to him again. _‘God. I just can’t get a freaking break.’_ He looked up, trying to mask any negative feelings that dared to bleed though on his face.

“So, Armin,” Erwin’s tone was amiable. “Your mother mentioned today was your first day at Trost State.” He smiled good-naturedly. “Congratulations. That is an amazing school.”

Armin forced a smile of his own to his lips. “Thanks, Mr. Smith.” He saw the slight discomfort on Erwin’s face when he called him that and it filled Armin with a sick sense of satisfaction. _‘Well it’s not like I know you.’_

“I received some scholarships and I also used the money from this essay contest I won in the tenth grade.” Even that hadn’t been enough, though. Armin outright _refused_ help from Carla and Grisha (and he wouldn’t be receiving what his grandfather left him until his eighteenth birthday) so he knew he’d be caught in student loans once he graduated. Armin had already made peace with that fact, but it wasn’t something he was looking forward to.

He was relieved when a dark-haired woman (presumably their waitress) approached the booth to get their drink orders.

“A chai tea, please.” Armin smiled kindly at her just as he felt a vibration in the confines of his pocket. _‘I’m popular today.'_ He thought fondly on the hour-long phone conversation he’d had with Eren before coming here, and then the text-exchange with Sasha discussing what kind of cake she should bake for her sister’s birthday.  They’d decided on strawberry since it was Armin’s favorite, and when Sasha proposed Armin swing by the following evening to help, he’d happily agreed.

All at once though, the happy feeling died when he retrieved his phone and tilted down to glance into his lap.

 

 **[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**  
_You gonna avoid me forever or what_

Armin hesitated with his response. He wasn’t going to avoid him forever, he knew, but what _could_ he say to him? Definitely not how he really felt.

_I’m sorry, Jean. I just don’t know what I want with you and when I’m near you all I want is you affection so… I just cant right now._

It didn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

 

 **[iMessage to Jean Kirschstein]**  
_No._  
_I’m at a dinner with my mom rn._

**[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**

_I don’t see how that’s relevant dude  
That where you’ve been this whole weekend??_

 

Armin felt himself frown and a sigh pulled from his lips. Leave it o Jean to call him on his crap. He didn’t even have a chance to _think_ of a reply before his phone went off again.

 

 **[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**  
_Can I call u?_

_‘He really is persistent….’_ Armin was grateful for his current setting. Briefly, he eyed Nifa and Erwin and saw that they weren’t paying him any mind. Armin didn’t know whether to be happy about that or not.

 

 **[iMessage to Jean Kirschstein]**  
_I told you not right now.  
But I’ll be home later._

 

 **[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]**  
_I’m staying w my family til the cookout which you’d kno if we actually TALKED_  
I respected when you said you needed time but it’s been long enough  
You need to tell me straight up wtf is going on.  
Do you wanna be with me or not?

 

He asked the question Armin feared. He  didn’t think he had the mental capacity to form a response to it at the current moment.

 _But will you ever?_ He heard the question in Jean’s voice.

“Armin?”

The boy lifted his head, searching for a distraction. His mother was looking at him worriedly from the other side of the table. “You look a little pale, Dear. Are you alright?”

 _‘Who gave you permission to call me that? And have you noticed I’m_ always _pale?’_ For a quick moment, he narrowed his eyes, then he fixed his face and gently scratched his cheek.

“I’m fine, Mother,” he told her, “Just talking to my roommate about something kinda serious. I’m almost done, I swear. I know this is rude.”

Then, the waitress returned with their drinks. The young woman lowered his tea in front of him and Armin smiled in thanks.

 

 **[iMessage to Jean Kirschstein]**  
_Ok I get you want answers._  
_I’m sry I’ve been so crappy. I promise at the cookout we’ll talk_  
_Like really talk_  
_No more running away._

**[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]  
** _You mean that?_

**[iMessage to Jean Kirschstein]**  
_Yes I do._  
_I really have to go tho. Like I said, I’m at a dinner with my mom._

 

 **[iMessage from Jean Kirschstein]  
** _Ngl I thought you were bullshitting to get out of talking to me_

 

It hurt that Jean just assumed he would do something like that, though Armin couldn’t truly say he wouldn’t. He considered responding but their waitress inquiring about their food sufficiently grabbed his attention.

“She and I,” Ewin made a gesture to Nifa.  “We would like to share a shrimp cocktail appetizer and…. Armin, would you like an appetizer as well?” The elder blond  looked at him questioningly.

Armin took a fraction of a second to think. “I hadn’t been planning on it but now, I kinda want something...” He smiled up at their waitress. The tag on her torso told hm her name was _Willa_ “Can I have a Caesar salad with ranch, please? And croutons?”

Willa nodded. She quickly transferred something to her notepad before tucking it away. “Alright,” she said, “I’ll be back shortly and then you can order your entrées.”

She left the table. Armin grabbed the mug with one hand and tasted his tea, smiling appreciatively at the high quality. He hadn’t expected anything less of such a _ritzy_ restaurant.

He saw Nifa and Erwin exchange a look, then they turned to Armin with purposeful expressions. The boy’s eyes immediately went squint.

“…What?”

 “You know of The Astronomy Institute of Hermina, yes?” Nifa asked, holding onto her papaya juice in a tight grip.

Her question confused him. _Of course_ Armin knew about it; AIH was their country’s version of NASA. They organized all experiments conducted for space exploration. The majority of the books and documentaries in Armin’s collection came from the institute, so it went without saying Armin was quite keen on the goings-on there. He didn’t get why his mother would ask.

“Yes, of course. I would really love to visit there one day.” His expression was dreamy. “Why do you ask?”

Nifa smiled, clearly endeared by her son’s enthusiastic attitude. “Well, Erwin and I have a proposition for you. Have you ever considered interning there?”

Armin shook his head with wide eyes. Surely, she wasn’t suggesting what he _thought_ she was suggesting. _‘No way…’_

Erwin rested his elbow on the tabletop. “Why’s that, Armin? I’ve been told how passionate you are about this particular strain of science.” His tone was urging. “AIH is a great organization.”

Suddenly bashful, the blond boy looked downward. “I highly doubt I’d qualify,” he said, “Many people are up for a spot and something tells me they wouldn’t give it to some kid not even a semester into his first year of college.”  He took another sip of his tea.

The intensity in Erwin’s gaze was unyielding. “If it’s what you really want, I could make a call.” He spoke so simply Armin felt strange about his stunned expression.  “A mutual friend of ours – Hanji Zoe – works there. I could definitely get you an internship with her.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Armin’s eyes only grew wider. He wouldn’t deny the offer was enticing – the opportunity to work with real astronomers wasn’t something that arose everyday – but it felt… odd accepting something of that magnitude from a person he hardly knew.

“I’m completely serious,” Erwin affirmed.

Armin averted his eyes away. “Um, wow… Don’t get me wrong, that is in amazing offer and it’s something I’ve always wanted, but…” Armin’s voice trailed off as he bit his lip.

Nifa blinked, confused as to why he seemed so hesitant. “Armin, is this really something to think about? You’ve told me yourself astronomy is your choice career path after college. It’ll be extremely beneficial to start now.”

More than anything, Armin absolutely _hated_ when he felt he was being pressured into something. Of course he wanted to accept, but, as previously stated, it felt strange letting a _stranger_ do something like that for him. The boy shook his head and briefly glanced out of the window beside their booth.

“I’d feel guilty accepting something like that from you, Mr. Smith,” Armin huffed out, not looking at him, “It’s… too big an offer for our first meeting.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Erwin nodded. He fixed his mother with a look Armin couldn’t quite read. Then he smiled at the boy across from him. “Understandable,” he said, “But please do consider it, Armin. It’s the least I can do for my future stepson.”

The unease Armin felt before was _nothing_ next to what he was experiencing now. The urge to dry-heave was suddenly very present, and his wrist froze in the action of lifting his tea to his mouth. Surely, he’d misheard him.

“W-ait.” Armin’s voice broke when he said it. “You guys are… You’re… _engaged_?” He sat his drink back down and stared at Nifa’s naked ring finger. “Seriously?”

Erwin’s entire face was lit with pride. “Yes, as of two days ago.” He was unconcerned that Armin was close to falling out of the booth from the shock of the revelation.

The blond could’ve sworn there was some discomfort on his mother’s features when Erwin’s arm went around her. If that had been the case, though, she masked it well with a smile.

Rage overwhelmed all other emotions warring in Armin’s ches.t. “Can I ask why I wasn’t told sooner?” Sharp eyes settled on the woman at the other end of the table. “Well, Mother?”

Nifa’s painted lips formed around words she was clearly having difficulty getting out.  “I know it’s a lot to take in.” She looked at her son with guilt in her eyes, but it did nothing to calm Armin. “I… didn’t know how to tell you, Armin...” She bit her bottom lip.  “There is no right way to say ‘I’m engaged’.”

 _‘Do you hear the utter bullshit coming from your mouth?’_ A sigh passed through Armin’s lips. “Maybe not, but I can say for sure how you guys went about it was not even close.” He couldn’t decide if he was more angry or hurt. “So… Is there anymore Earth-shattering news I should know about, or is that all?” The question was meant as sarcasm, but the shift in Nifa’s features filled the boy with a sense of dread. _‘Please, not again…’_ He sighed for the second time in five minutes. _‘I don’t think I can take any more.’_

“I’m sorry, Armin,” Nifa looked between her son and her fiancé. “But…. there _is_ something else. Our engagement was prompted by some… news I shared with Erwin.” Erwin’s hand covered hers atop the table and gently stroked her ring finger. The sight made Armin’s stomach turn.

His mother took in a preparatory breath, looking at him unsurely as the words left her.

“I’m pregnant.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's crazy, when I first wrote this story years back, I decided to make Nifa Armin's mother because of their similar, big-eyed baby faces... and now she's appearing in the anime and oh god it's so strange seeing her face, lol.


	14. Alone Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean and Armin are both thirsty af

**MONDAY, AUGUST 21 ST: 9:13PM**

If asked, Armin would be unable to recollect exactly how he ended up at Eren’s house. Most things about that night had been a blur: his leaving the dinner, the sobbing episode in the plaza across the street and then, the Uber-ide to the place that easily felt the most like _home_ to Armin.

Eren greeted him in his pajamas, telling him it was late (and asking what the fuck he was doing there) while simultaneously ushering him inside. Brutus scampered up to meet him in the foyer. Armin smiled at the puppy and craned so he could affectionately rub his head.

“Sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” Armin looked Eren in his eyes when he straightened, but saw he was more concerned with other things. Probably, the reason behind Armin’s impromptu visit at 9pm.

“Never mind,” Eren said dismissively. His entire face set in worry. “Let’s talk about why you’re at my house right now. I didn’t space on plans we made, did I?”

Armin shook his head and hoped the remnants of his crying weren’t visible. “I don’t think it’s wrong to just wanna see my best friend.” He continued stroking Brutus’s furry head. “I was out and I wanted to drop by so here I am.”

Eren looked incredulous. “I would believe that if your eyes weren’t red. ‘Min…” He sighed. “What’s really going on? You know you can always talk to me. So _talk to me_.”

Armin closed his eyes. Coming over might not have been wise, but Eren was always who he turned to when things went awry. Of course he showed up there after the _travesty_ that was his evening.  

“Can we not do this in the foyer?” Armin’s voice shrunk.

Eren smiled. He was glad he gave in without much prodding. “The ‘rents are probably getting ready for bed so we’re gonna have to stay down here.”

“That’s fine.” Armin pulled the end of his braid. “Eren… you know your room kinda has a smell.” He removed his vegan-leather oxfords and tucked them into the rack in the hall closet.

Eren came up behind him then. “You just keep talking shit, ‘Min…” When tanned fingers started to tickle his sides, Armin nearly _shrieked._

“Ha! Eren, _n-no!”_ Armin laughed in desperation, wiggling on the glossy hardwood until he fell against his best friend’s chest.

“I w-was just stating a fact!” he cried out between gasps, “Eren, you’re such a butthead! _Stop!”_

But the brunet didn’t relent in his assault. The smaller youth writhed helplessly, the excitement triggering Brutus to bark and jump at their feet.

“What is going on?”

All that noise brought a robe-clad Carla Jaeger down the stairs. Holding onto the bannister, she looked between both boys with wide, angry eyes.

On cue, all the movement in the room ceased.

“Sorry, Mom.” Eren turned to his mother when Armin detached himself. _“_ Armin was being rude. I was try’na teach him a lesson.” Playfully narrowed eyes fell on the blond, who giggled innocently.

“You say rude, I say _honest_.” Armin looked at Carla and slightly bowed his head. “Auntie… We didn’t mean to disturb you, sorry. Were you asleep?” His tone was greatly apologetic.

Carla rested one hand on her hip. “Grisha and I are about to watch a movie, so no, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t quiet time.” Her expression was firm until Brutus came up to nuzzle her calves. She smiled down at the German Shepherd puppy.

“I was actually about to have some of the macaroni-tuna salad Francine prepared earlier.” Francine, Armin knew, was Jaegers’ housekeeper. He couldn’t say he liked her much, since each of their encounters consisted of her commenting on how _underweight_ he appeared. Armin heard that enough from everyone else.

Carla stepped onto the foyer floor and readjusted the tie-belt on her robe. “Would you boys like some too? There’s more than enough for everyone.” A kindhearted air surrounded her.

Armin knew better than to refuse an offer for food from Carla Jaeger. She was much like her son in her insistence that Armin eat as much as possible. But he didn’t mind giving in; the blond enjoyed macaroni-tuna salad—especially when Ritz crackers were involved.

“You can count me in,” Armin said merrily. Beside him, Eren fiercely nodded.

“Do you have Ritz crackers?”

Carla’s chocolate eyes went to her pseudo-son. “Of course! I know how much you like that, Armin.” Brutus scooted away and she took a step forward. “Y’all can wait in the den and I’ll prepare a platter. Okay?”

Both boys agreed by repeating the word back to her. Brutus trailed behind Carla as she journeyed down the hallway, and when she was gone, her son turned to Armin with crossed arms.

“You may’ve fooled Mom, but I know the truth.”

“I wasn’t trying to fool anyone.” Armin blinked. “Let’s… go to the den, okay? There’re things I need to talk about...” The blond sighed, his eyes shifting down.  

Eren gently patted his head. “God, ‘Min. You can be so moody sometimes.” He snorted out a small laugh. Armin huffed, but said nothing.

They entered the hall on socked feet, trekking along the hardwood to descend the single step into the den. The furnishings in the room were comfortable and tidy, with a multitude of framed photographs on nearly every surface. Eren turned on the fireplace with the remote then dropped onto the couch. Armin took up residence in the papasan chair.

“Mind if I put on some music?” Eren’s Samsung was already in his grasp. The case was salt-grey and patterned like marble.

Armin shook his head to indicate he didn’t. He tucked in his legs and lounged in the chair, large eyes fixing on the ceiling for a short while.

“I don’t really know where to begin with this...” He sighed through the words.

On the couch, Eren was leant on his thighs and typing into his smartphone. “The beginning is probably the most helpful.”

Armin’s eyes narrowed for the briefest of seconds. “I _know_ that.” He folded his arms over his abdomen when the music started to play. “It doesn’t mean it’s any easier to talk about. It’s just… a lot, okay?” He sighed. Eren seemed to know the question was hypothetical.

“My mother…” Armin began, “She… dropped this _bomb_ at dinner. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my mind around it, honestly.” He ran his teeth over his lip. “I stupidly thought it was gonna be just us, but then, she introduced this _guy_ …” Armin ranted, “Apparently, he’s been her _fiancé_ for two whole days and she didn’t even think to tell me beforehand...” It was difficult for Armin _not_ to become irate from speaking about it. Eren’s phone went off, but he ignored it in turn of attending to his best friend.

The gears worked over his face and then, sea-green eyes widened. “Well shit.” He blinked at Armin. “That’s fucked up, bro. She really didn’t even _tell you_?”

Armin’s expression was sour when he shook his head. “Maybe it was her twisted way of surprising me,” he suggested, laughing bitterly as he shifted more comfortably in the chair.

“Whatever it was, that woman is really not leaving a good impression.” Eren scowled. His dislike towards Nifa had never been a secret. According to Eren, his mother had never deserved a second chance. Armin would like to believe he felt differently.

“I wish this was the end of it.” Amin heaved a sigh. “But there’s more, if you can believe. Apparently, they decided to get married ‘cause…” Azure eyes went back to staring at the ceiling. “She’s… pregnant. With his kid.”

For a moment, Eren was without words. “Are you _serious_?” He checked his phone for a split second. “That’s fucking tacky. Gettin’ married just ‘cause the bitch is pregnant...” He grunted angrily. “I don’t get why she thought revealing it in that manner was a good idea. How long has she been pregnant?”

Armin shrugged. “I didn’t ask, but I’m assuming not long. She isn’t showing.” He thankfully paused in his speech just as Carla entered the room, a ceramic platter in her hands. On one side was a spread of crackers and beside that, a generous helping of the macaroni-tuna salad Francine made. Armin leaned forward. Eren’s phone vibrated twice from the coffee table.

“Thanks, Aunt Carla.” Armin smiled up at her. Eren also thanked his mother before giving his attention to his Samsung.

Armin scooped macaroni onto a cracker, looking at her with a sudden thought. “Tell Francine ‘thank you’, too.” His smile grew a bit as he ate it.

“I’ll be sure to,” Cala sang out, “For now, though, Grisha’s waiting on me so we can start _Forrest Gump._ ” She tapped a slippered foot on the floor or the den. “You boys are welcome to join us.”

“We’re good down here, Mom,” Eren said, his eyes briefly moving from his phone. Armin remained silent.

“Suit yourselves.” Carla started to pace back to the arched doorway. She looked at them sharply. “I know you two’re gonna stay up to some obscene hour of the night so please, try and keep your voices down.” Threatening eyes were specifically on her son. It was common knowledge that Eren tended to get _loud_ no matter what he was doing. It was one of the countless similarities he shared with Jean Kirschstein. Currently, thoughts of his roommate evoked emotions in Armin he didn’t want to deal with.

“We will,” the blond said. He thought it smarter to appease her rather than quip out some response, as Eren was probably planning on doing.

At his words, Carla donned a quick smile. She climbed the step that would take her out of the den.

“Goodnight then, boys.”

Armin and Eren both bade Carla a goodnight as she left the room. When Armin tuned to the brunet, he noticed his phone vibrate yet _again._

“Someone’s adamant on contacting you.” He lifted another cracker to his lips. “Who is it?”

Eren eyed the device once before looking at Armin. For that instant, he was hesitant.

“Krista,” he said. “I’d really like to say it’s nothing but there’s no use lying to you.”  The tiniest of smiles appeared on Eren’s lips. He sandwiched some macaroni-tuna between two crackers and shoveled it into his mouth.

“There isn’t.” Armin’s face turned in repulsion at the _barbaric_ way Eren consumed his food.

“So, what’s going on?” Armin tired to put that gross display out of his mind when he asked. He got out of the papasan chair and went to join his best friend on the couch.

Eren glanced up thoughtfully. “I’m about one-hundred percent sure I like her.”

“Okay…” Armin sat sideways to face Eren, hugging a throw pillow in his lap. “You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing, which I don’t get. It seems like Krista’s into you.”

“It’s just kind of, I don’t know, weird?” Uncertainty wasn’t something Eren often advertised. “Maybe she does like me back, but she’s been texting that Ymir chick a lot.” He pursed his lips together. “We’ve also been spending a lot of time just the two of us, like… we’ll go to the mall or the movies or, on Saturday, we’re gonna head to this roller-skating rink.” Eren looked at the blond in slight desperation. “I don’t know what it means. She seems to like Ymir, too. But I don’t think shed agree to go out with me so much if she didn’t feel at least _something_ for me too.” He ended his rant with a sigh.

Armin leaned against the couch cushions. The clear upset on Eren’s face tugged at his heartstrings. It had been some time since he’d even heard of his best friend romantically involved with anyone. Usually, his main focus with women was getting them into bed. Eren’s last relationship ended in the summer between his junior and senior years of high school. Armin wondered what had changed.

He clasped Eren’s wrist and gently traced his thumb along the bone there. “I care so much about you, Eren...” Armin held his eyes. “But I know next to nothing of Ymir and don’t give a rat’s behind about her feelings in comparison to yours. If you wanna see if this thing with Krista _is_ a thing, I say do it.” He smiled encouragingly at the other boy. “Your happiness is the most important thing.”

It was impressive that Armin could give such urging advice when his own romantic situation was in such a tangle. Pressing into the couch, the boy rested the pillow over his torso.

“Damn.” Eren chuckled. “That was sweet of you to say, but it was also fucking savage.” He patted his back with a heavy hand. “Thanks, Armin.”

Armin’s response was a wordless half-smile. He ate a few macaroni-tuna crackers, then paused to listen to the music coming from Eren’s phone.

“Jean would like this song,” Armin commented. He sat with his legs crossed on the couch.

“Yeah.” Eren looked like he was considering something and trying (badly) to be discreet about it. “Jean’s the one that hipped me to this, actually. It’s a station for one of his favorite bands.”

“Oh.” Armin bit his lip. For those few moments, they remained in silence. Eren continued to text Krista and, emboldened by the fact that his eyes _weren’t_ on him, Armin spoke up.

“Jean and I kissed.” He said it before he had a chance to stop himself. Eren shot up his head and _gaped_ at him.

“Fucking – _seriously?”_ The inquiry was at a heightened volume, but he did seem to be taking in account Carla’s request to keep his voice down. The brunet seized Armin’s wrist in a tight hold.

“When the fuck did _this_ happen?!”

Heat rushed to Armin’s cheeks. He looked away from him and inhaled through his nose. “Friday night… after I went to that movie with Bertholdt. I guess my going out with someone else made him see what he was missing out on.” The hint of a smile cast over Armin’s lips until he remembered Eren had a part to play.

“I can’t believe you _told him_ I was at Starbucks, Eren.” His face was sharp with accusation. “Jean was trying to keep it in but… I knew. Bertholdt knew it, too. He was mad.” When Eren released his wrist, Armin placed his hands on his thighs.

“He was acting like a presumptuous, entitled asshole.” _‘And a jealous boyfriend.’_

Eren laughed. “Looks like you’re finally starting to see Jean for what he is.” He popped the second-to-last cracker into his mouth. “I told him ‘cause I was trying to punish him for treating you like that. I thought seeing you with Bertl would light a fire under his ass.” He shrugged his shoulders in attempted innocence.

“Clearly, I was right.”

Armin failed at keeping the scowl on his face. “It provoked him into a confession, so be proud.” He chuckled at Eren’s revolted expression. It was enough to say that he was _not_ proud.

“Apparently, he’d been avoiding me because he didn’t know what to make of his feelings.” Armin would’ve ridiculed him if he wasn’t currently doing something painfully similar.

“What a pussy,” Eren grumbled out, “Either you like someone, or you don’t. It ain’t that deep.” He leaned his back on a throw pillow just as Armin smirked.

“I don’t know, Eren. He wasn’t a pussy Friday night.” The words were teasing. “I’d say, he’s quite skilled with his—”

 _“Ew, do not!”_ Eren grimaced, entirely disgusted as he held up his hand. Armin erupted into cackles at his friend’s reaction.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“I don’t _need_ to know what might’ve transpired between you and Horseshit, Armin.”

Armin continued to laugh, but he couldn’t help but sympathize with the other boy a little. He petted his shoulder as his mirth subsided.

“Don’t worry. All we did was kiss.” Armin’s tone was kindly, but his grin prevailed. “There wasn’t even tongue.”

A sigh left Eren’s lips. “So, what, are you guys like an item now?” He turned to look at him.

Armin visibly cringed. “I don’t think we are. I told him I needed to think some things through before jumping into anything.” Armin felt like he was disappointing him, somehow.

“Mhm, classic Armin.” Eren snorted and shook his head. “Sounds to me like you’re doing that thing where you deny yourself of something ‘cause you feel underserving. Or it doesn’t fit in with your plan, or some stupid shit like that.” He chuckled  “I get it. I know you thinking types need to analyze things and you need your order.” He held blue eyes intently when it seemed Armin might turn away. “But feelings aren’t always something you can analyze. More often than not, they’re unpredictable and messy.” Tanned fingers landed on Armin’s shoulder as he attempted to bring him comfort.

It was worrying how much sense Eren made. The blond bit harder on his lip as he pondered that. Unpredictable and messy. He’d admit, the terms described what was going on with Jean rather well—namely, his feelings.

“You like Jean, don’t you?” Eren’s question made the blush on his cheeks darken. The knowing look he wore was reminiscent of that time in _Chipotle_ when he’d first interrogated Armin. Who would’ve thought it’d escalate so severely into _this_?

 _‘Yes, I like him,’_ Armin wanted to scream, _‘I like him_ so much _and I wish I could kiss him again, among other things.’_

But Armin was tight-lipped. He settled for a soft sigh and hesitance when he finally did reply.

“I’d think that’s obvious…”

Eren watched him eat the final macaroni-cracker off the platter.

“I just wanted to hear you say it.” A grin accompanied the words. “So why didn’t you tell me if this happened _days_ ago?” He touched his chest in a theatrical motion. “I’m hurt.”

Armin sighed. He’d been waiting for him to ask. “I… would’ve told you, Eren. Honest, I would have.” The blond pouted a little bit. “I guess, maybe, I was kind of scared?” He briefly peered down at his lap.

Eren’s expression shifted into seriousness. “Scared of what? That I’d judge you or something?” He shook his head and reached out to hold Armin’s hand. “’Min, listen...” Eren’s voice softened. “Yeah, I know, I always shit on Jean, but at the end of the day, I do know you care about him.” He tried not to _cringe_ when he said that. “He may be an asshole, but… I care about you. I can’t promise I won’t have shit to say, but you don’t need to worry about me  _judging_.” A smile decorated his lips as he offhandedly added, “But if you’re gonna be kissing him a lot, make sure to stock up on some Listerine. Having _that much_ intimate contact with a horse can’t be good for your hygiene.”

Armin snatched his hand away and delivered a slap to the back of Eren’s neck. All the affection he harbored was momentarily set aside.  

“Can you _not_ be an ass for five seconds?” Armin hissed at him.

Eren snickered. “I’d like to say I’m kidding, but I’m not.”

\---

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 23 RD: 4:34PM**

Relatives, friends of the family, Emilia’s girlfriend – none of these were who Jean wished would enter his backyard right then. He tried not to appear too disgruntled (even though he most definitely _was_ ) as slender arms folded and he anticipated the arrival of someone in particular. He knew it was clear enough who that someone was.

A hand clapped on his shoulder just as Connie came up to his side. “Brother man,” he addressed the taller boy. “You look like a puppy waiting for his owner to come home, ya know.” He snickered. “Armin’ll be here soon. There _is_ a thing called patience.”

Jean grunted and ignored the second part of Connie’s statement. “It’d be better if he was here right now.” He was prepared to start banging on about how he _needed_ to see him, but then, whatever divine force was up there pitied Jean and granted his wishes.

The boy in question rounded the side of the house into the backyard, with Eren and Mikasa on either side. He looked absolutely _delicious_ to Jean, wearing a button-down rolled up to his upper arms and skinny jeans with that gingham pattern that seemed to be the Summer-trend. For once, Armin’s hair was free of any styling. Jean wanted to run his fingers through the pale tresses.

“Con,” He turned back to his short friend. “Do me a favor and disappear, will you? There’s something I need to do.” He gave Armin a brief once-over with his eyes.

“Something, or someone?” Connie’s words were laced with a smirk.

Jean snorted. Sometimes, It really did seem as if all the shorter boy was concerned with was the physical aspect of a relationship. Armin was more than just eye-candy to him. As of late, he was the predominant thing on his mind and the main fodder for his dreams. Jean would like to stop relying on his imagination for what it’d be like to hold him.

“There are things Armin and I need to talk about,” Jean clarified. His eyes narrowed somewhat. “ _Privately._ ”

The amusement didn’t leave Connie’s face when his grey eyes peered up at him. “Okay, fine.” He gave in with a chuckle. “I’ll go. Just make sure to do you duty. You know what I mean.”

Jean would assume he was referring to the _situation_ he couldn’t put a name to. Armin. The blond hadn’t asked him _not_ to discuss what happened, so of course, he told Connie that same night. The youth had been thrilled (though not surprised) but the smile slipped from his face when Jean continued to tell him what Armin had said.

_“I just… need some time, okay?”_

In Jean’s mind, he had more than enough time. A talk was overdue between them, as was more affection (preferably, kisses). His yearning for the blond only increased over the weekend. A single taste was insufficient to sate him.

“Oh, I plan to.” Jean’s fingers went to touch his hair. The undercut was growing out at an impressively _accelerated_ rate; he’d last cut it on Christmas and now, the golden-brown locks extended just passed his chin. Jean enjoyed the style, but there were times he did miss his short hair. Whether or not he should cut it again, he decided, was a question for social media.

Jean watched Connie walk off. He paced across the grassy ground to stand near his girlfriend by a buffet table. A relieved sigh broke from Jean’s lips. He hoped he didn’t appear as eager as he felt when he traveled the few yards to where Amin was. His small roommate had his arms crossed as he chatted with his two best friends. Unsurprising. These three honestly seemed to be attached at the hip.

“Hello, Jean,” Mikasa spoke to him first, a tiny smile adorning her intimidatingly attractive features. The romper she had on was as vibrant of a red as his shirt. Jean allowed a moment to survey her appearance.

Eren greeted him with his usual “Hey, Horse Face!”, while Armin just smiled and said “hi”.

Jean eyes were trained on his roommate. “Hey, guys.” He’d like to just pull Armin aside so they could talk, even as he knew that wasn’t the most courteous option. Though, to Jean’s credit, _courtesy_ wasn’t a term used to describe him often.

“I need to borrow Armin,” he told them. Immediately, the blond male peeked up with shyness that Jean found to be _adorable._ Eren’s reply to that was surprisingly agreeable. He gripped Armin’s shoulders and turned him to Jean.

“Consider him sufficiently borrowed.”

 A glint in a green eye was all Jean needed to tell him Eren was wholly aware of what occurred between Armin and him. He was uncertain how he felt about that.

Armin drew closer and spared a glance at Eren. “Wow, getting rid of me much?” He wasn’t at all bothered, though – the boy may’ve even appeared to be excited. Jean felt contentment work into his chest. 

“And I’m not some piece to be bargained over,” Armin said, exhaling in halfhearted annoyance. When his eyes went to Jean, pinkened lips turned into a cautious smile.

 _‘Fuck. He’s so cute…’_ It took all of Jean’s might not to act rashly and kiss him. The amount of restraint he displayed was honestly surprising.

“My bad.” When he took a step backward, Armin followed. The warm fondness in his eyes told Jean he must’ve been thinking similarly. He almost lost his breath when a hand came to gingerly clasp his own.

“I just wanted to get you alone as soon as possible,” Jean said, swallowing.

They walked together until they were out of Mikasa and Eren’s range of hearing. Jean utilized their joined hands to absently pull him closer.

“So, have you eaten?” The thought entered his mind due to their proximity to the dining section of his backyard.

Armin tucked back his hair with unoccupied fingers. “I’m not really hungry right now.” His tone was airy-light.

Jean stared at him pointedly. “That isn’t what I asked.” He was aware of Armin’s habit of not giving straight answers when he asked something. It annoyed him to no end, honestly, but Jean tried not to let that show.

“You haven’t _lived_ until you’ve tried my mom’s blueberry pie.” Jean’s enthusiasm dripped off his words. He saw Armin’s lips tug into a smile .

“I love blueberry pie,” he gushed. “But honestly, I trust most food if it’s made by a Kirschstein.” He looked over at the buffet tables for a second. “So long as it’s not Alfredo. You know I really hate that.”

Jean chuckled at the face he pulled. He was sure it’d take effort not to constantly muse about how endearingly cute Armin was. “Yeah, I do know.” Idly, Jean’s thumb traced the blond’s fingers. He brought him to the dessert table and watched Armin scan over the extensive array of food.

“Wow, this all looks so delicious.” His smile glittered on his face. “My heart is set on the pie, though.”

 _‘My heart is set on you.’_ Jean broke the hold to procure a slice of blueberry pie for Armin. It was sat on a plastic saucer. He collected a spork to go with it and presented them to him.

“You’re not gonna have any?” Armin wondered, accepting the treat with a pleased smile.

“My mom made one that’s specifically for me and Emilia,” Jean told him. “Since, you know, Farlan’s allergic.”  

“Ahh.” Armin cut into the pie and took a bite. Only his blussful expression was needed to show how much he enjoyed it.

“Wanna go somewhere and talk?” Jean asked. He was certain his response would be what he wanted.

“The gazebo is currently unoccupied.” Armin gestured with a tip of his head. When he looked to Jean, he was overcome with wonderment.

“Your parents’ house is so nice,” he raved, “This backyard is easily so much larger than the entire lower level of my grandfather’s house.” Jena caught the bitterness in his laugher. He attempted humility for the sake of comforting the blond.

“This is my childhood home, so I don’t really see it as big anymore. But thanks. I’ll tell them you said that.” He shifted his gaze towards the pool. His cousins and Connie’s younger siblings were taking turns going down the slide. _‘Cute,’_ Jean thought.

“I propose we go swimming again before Summer’s officially over.” Armin was clearly on the same page as him. Jean nodded as they climbed the steps to the gazebo.

“We could do that tonight,” the taller suggested. “I’m sure I’ve got some trunks that’re too small for me lying around somewhere.” He grinned at the image of Armin wearing his clothes. That was a prospect he could live with.

Armin sat on the couch that encircled the back of the outdoor sitting area.

“That sounds fun.” He said it honestly, pale hands resting in his lap when Jean came and sat beside him.

“I think we’re passed the point of pussyfooting,” he said. Casually, his arm slipped behind Armin as he stared at him. “I’ve waited for days, ‘Min… I don’t think you could really understand the scale of how much I want this.” He cleared his throat and amended his words quickly. _“You.”_

When Armin bit his lip, Jean’s eyes followed his teeth. Eventually, the boy looked up at him, sporting careful determination when he spoke.

“Jean…” That was all his tongue could manage for a while. He appeared conflicted. “I had all these things planned in my head but now, they all sound kinda stupid to me.” Armin sighed in frustration and expelled a tiny laugh.

“Is it… incredibly ridiculous to say I was scared?”

Jean kept looking at him. “Do you want me to answer that honestly?” And though he was silent, the face Armin made was indicative the question had ruffled him.

“You’ve made your answer pretty clear,” he bit out. His palms flattened on his thighs and Armin glanced down.

“Okay…” Jean sighed. “Fuck whatever you’re scared of. You _know_ I wouldn’t intentionally hurt you.” Fingers hooked beneath his chin, Jean urged the blond to look at him again.

“I don’t know that,” Armin shot back, swatting his hand away gently. “You don’t know that. Who’s to say _I_ won’t be the one to hurt _you_?”

Feeling aside, the realist in Jean wouldn’t allow him _not_ to weigh the possibility of it all going to shit –as much as it may’ve hurt, and as much as Jean _didn’t_ want that. A sigh slipped passed his lips.

“Yeah... that’s a vali thought,” he admitted. “No one can really predict the future. But that’s more of a reason to say _‘fuck it’_ and let me kiss you.” Jean’s smile dashed across his face. “We like each other. That’s all that should matter. Right now, my main focus is making you happy, Armin. As whatever role you want me to play.”

Sure hands cupped his face and smoothed his fingers over his cheeks, appreciating the entranced look in Armin’s eyes.

“But I won’t lie to you,” Jean’s smile remained on his face. “I’d very much like for that role to be as your boyfriend.”

That particular statement seemed to force Armin out of his brief dazed state. He stared into amber eyes and expelled a breath.

“I think… maybe we should take this someplace else.” His tone was soft but firm. “Surrounded by strangers—That’s hardly the most ideal place for this.” A blush overtook Armin’s cheeks as he said, “I’d like some privacy.”

Jean’s eagerness outshone any quips he might’ve spurted. If he got his meaning, Armin was saying they should be alone. Jean didn’t share that sentiment, truly; He didn’t care whose eyes were on them (As long as they weren’t Eren Jaeger’s). Jean was prepared to profess his feelings to just about _anyone_ at that point.

But for the sake of wanting to please Armin, he went along with it. “Privacy. Yeah, I can make that happen.” Jean peeked at the double-door entrance to the kitchen, grateful his parents weren’t nearby. They’d undoubtedly chew him out for going inside during a _cookout._ He was supposed to be hosting— but Jean always cared more about treating himself than familial duties.

Smiling, the tall male seized him by the hand and led Armin down from the gazebo. The walk to his house was short enough, but when he looked, Jean noticed the questioning stare of Emilia on them. He hoped the exchange of looks they shared was enough to express that he _didn’t_ want her to blab to their parents.

“I’ve never been in your house before…” Armin stated, eyeing him with a smile. “That’s weird, isn’t it? We’ve been friends for so long.” The chuckle that left him was quiet.

Friends wasn’t something Jean wanted to hear, especially _not_ when it related to them. He’d think Armin would name them differently in his mind. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.

 _‘Don’t you worry, ‘Min.’_  Jean made a silent promise. _‘Give me two seconds alone with you and I’ll change that perception in your mind.’_

He attempted to make the act of entwining their fingers as nonchalant as possible. “Well, I could give you a tour if you want.” Jean grinned, thinking of the possibilities of what might occur when they visited his bedroom. He saw Armin nod eagerly and would assume the boy had similar thoughts.

When they entered the side of the house to the kitchen, Jean closed the doors and, out of the corner of his eye, watched Armin look around the large space with awe.

“I’ve only seen houses _this_ big on TV,” Armin commented, eyes wide. Jean chuckled. His arms boldly found themselves around his waist and he hugged the boy from behind.

Armin made a sound of surprise. He shifted his head to him, not anticipating the absence of space between their faces. There was a second of undisturbed silence, then, the distance was decreased and their mouths fitted against one another.

It was a chaste connection until Armin turned in his arms to kiss him properly. Jean got his wish when he sunk his fingers into the thick mane of blond, cradling Armin’s skull as a hot tongue swiped the seam of Jean’s mouth. Armin’s hold on his arm was a _vice._

The kisses escalated into a slow, open-mouthed dance. Jean lifted Armin carefully by the waist, carrying him a few steps and sitting him on the counter. Armin gipped his shoulders, making the tiniest sound when Jean’s tongue thrust into his mouth.

Passion pulsated through them. Jean felt it. Their tongues licked at one another hungrily, Jean holding Armin at the curve in his spine when they boy’s thighs squeezed around him.

And then, the kiss gradually broke. They remained at a distance that they could share ragged breaths though. Jean gently massaged the boy’s sides.

“I’ll be really fucking hurt if you still have doubts after that.” Jean’s tone held a playful edge, but he meant it seriously.

Armin’s eyes were lidded. He softly kissed the tip of Jean’s nose, then his lips again.

“No,” he said. Jean briefly shut his eyes at the sensation of Armin stoking the back of his neck.

“I wanna be with you... I knew I did on Friday.” A sprinkle of pink came over his cheeks. “…I was just scared. I feel stupid for it now.” Tender fingers ran through Jean’s hair. “You’ve just… made me feel so safe.”

Jean couldn’t help but smile at the sweet confession. He bumped his nose to Armin’s and pecked his lips. “And I’ll continue to do so,” he said sincerely, “As long as you’ll have me.”

Armin smiled too, his whole frame melting into Jean’s as he kissed him  again for the countless time.

Right then, Jean noted, it really did feel like forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter:  
> Cinnamon - Jome


	15. Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An angel walks among us.

**SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 23 rd: 1:32PN**

The more time that passed, the harder it became for Jean to grasp—An entire _month_ had gone by since his family’s cookout.

The calendar above his desk had a little gel pen heart drawn under the date of August 23rd . That marked the advent of his and Armin’s relationship, since neither of them fhad formally asked the other to be “boyfriends”. It just sort of happened.

Their tryst in Jean’s parents’ kitchen made it mutually clear they wanted to be together. Despite the _heaviness_ of that kiss, Jean and Armin managed to keep things, for the most part, causal.

The pair went on dates every chance they got between classes and Armin’s internship at the Astronomy Institude of Hermina.

So, yes. In Jean’s mind (and he was sure Armin’s as well), September 23rd was their “one-month”. He was driving himself mad because he wished he had arranged something beforehand. 

Jean knew it was out of his jurisdiction, though. As a cruel coincidence, it was also the day of the freshman-parent dinner at their school, a mixer for students and parents both to mingle with the professors. There was no plausible way to do anything extravagant, Jean realized that. But it didn’t stop him from feeling lousy.

Then, a thought hit him. Jean put down his iPhone and sat up abruptly in his bed.

There was a high likelihood that Armin was still sleeping. On the weekends, the blond habitually snoozed well after noon. If Jean acted promptly, he could utilize that time and make him a brunch.

He recalled Armin’s endearing proclamation of his absolute _love_ for strawberries (especially when drizzled with powdered sugar), and Jean, of course, was more than condiment in his ability to prepare a meal.

There was no doubt, a plate of waffles topped with Armin’s favorite fruit _and_ some powdered sugar would celebrate their first month of dating well.

 _‘Yes, perfect.’_ Jean smiled largely. _‘I am the fucking man.’_

Pleased with himself, Jean swung long legs over the side of his full-sized bed and got up.

The autumn-shift hadn’t disrupted the internal temperature of the apartment much, so Jean was still comfortable strutting around in a tee shirt and basketball shorts. Armin was the opposite. Jean was convinced the kid had a case of anemia, or some other iron deficiency, because his loungewear had always been abundantly _heavy._

Jean never complained, though. The blond looked so fucking _good_ in those hoodie-and-leggings combinations he was so fond of.

Jean was fond of them, too, but more so, he was fond of the one wearing them.

He smiled at the thought of Armin and stretched his arms up, popping an Altoid into his mouth and walking out of his room into the hall.

To his knowledge, Connie had yet to return from his night at Sasha’s place. That was good. He knew if his short friend got wind of what he was doing, he’d use it as leverage to _tease him_ into the next century.

It would be preferable for Jean not to come off as whipped as he knew he completely _was._

 

Jean flipped the two light switches for the living room and the kitchen and entered the latter.

He saw his _totally manly so you can Fuck off Eren_ plaid apron hanging from a wall-mounted hook and grabbed for it, fastening it around his waist as he considered the best way to go about making the waffles.

He knew of the premade mix in the pantry, but baking them from scratch would doubtlessly augment the taste, _and_ it would impress Armin. That was always an upside.

‘ _Fuck yes,’_ he mused joyfully. ‘ _It’ll earn me some kisses for sure.’_

He hated that it still excited him to this degree. Jean had kissed the boy countless times over their month together. It was ridiculous that he was _this_ disgustingly giddy.

Jean knew he hadn’t felt this way in some time, not about anyone. The last time had been with—

 _No._ He wasn’t going to think of him now. Marco didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t  _supposed_  to matter. Jean had Armin, and he was okay.

 _‘I’m more than okay,’_ he reminded himself.

It was the honest truth. Jean was _great._ With Armin, he was happier than he’d been in a while, and their relationship had been blissfully perfect.

They complimented each other well. There was always something stimulating to talk about with him. Jean had to wonder what his life was when he _wasn’t_ dating Armin Arlert.

According to Sasha’s (stupid) philosophy, the “honeymoon phase” was to last for three months before it waned and, well… Actually, Jean had tuned most of what she had to say out since _she_ had been with Connie for years and they were like to marry after graduation.

_‘I hope I’ll be with Armin for that long…’_

Jean decided he would be optimistic about it. If this month was anything to go by, they were certainly off to a good start.

He smiled while preparing the waffle batter, glancing at the stove-clock every so often. Jean could only hope Armin wouldn’t wake until he completed his baking task.

 

It was fortunate that hadn’t happened. Jean finished the waffles in a timely manner and they came out unsurprisingly well, even as he thought he might’ve added a _smidge_ too much vanilla extract…

 It wasn’t until Jean was sifting powdered sugar onto the strawberry topping that a familiar and groggy voice rang in his ears.

“Mm, the smell of food summoned me.”

Jean looked up. A sleepy blond was standing some yards away in the doorway of the living room. His eyes went first to the _really form-fitting_ leggings he had on, then his face.

Seeing the tired expression reminded Jean that he too was quite sleep-deprived, but the exhaustion hadn’t hit him yet.

The night before, Jean and Armin took a drive up to the nearby beach and hadn’t returned until the sun was rising.

He fondly thought of sitting at the shore, waves crashing against their legs while they shared sweet kisses and blathered endlessly about any topic that surfaced in their minds.

He could still visualize the twinkle in Armin’s eyes as he informed Jean about the types of crabs residing in the shallow part of the beach.

They happened upon one and Armin had excitedly (and cautiously) picked it up, discovering the hard way that Jean was _deathly_ afraid of any and all crustaceans.

 

At current, Armin was rubbing his eye with the sleeve of his pullover, wrinkled from sleep, and taking sluggish steps towards the kitchen. Jean was pleased by the sight.

“Morning—er, afternoon to you, Armin.” He lifted his chin and smiled to greet him.

Armin requited the smile. “It honestly still feels like morning to me, so g’morning, Jean.”

When he approached the other male, Armin looked at the plates of waffles with curiosity.

“These look… super tasty. Wow.” He peeked up at him.

The compliment wasn’t unanticipated, but Jean still visibly brightened. “Thanks,” he said genially. “I made them special for us.”

Jean took the plates and laid each in front of a stool, motioning for Armin to sit.

“You did?” The statement caused Armin’s cheeks to pinken a tad. _‘Cute.’_

“But… wait, what’s the occasion?”

 _‘He doesn’t know?’_  Jean deflated instantly. He thought Armin the type to remember things like this, so he was a little surprising to hear otherwise.

Jean went to grab two glasses from the drying rack and filled each with the Minute Maid juice from the fridge.

“Oh, uh…” Now, Jean was embarrassed about saying it. He felt a blush spring to his own face.

“Nothing special, just… You know, today’s the twenty-third of September...” He looked away from him.

Armin collected a sugarcoated strawberry off the topmost waffle and popped it into his mouth.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he said after swallowing. “The freshman-parent dinner is tonight. I didn’t… forget an important date, did I?” His eyes became unsure. “Oh crap, what. Your birthday isn’t until April. Mine is in November… Jean, okay. I don’t really—”

“Armin.” Jean brought the neurotic meanderings to a halt, laughing outright. Panic swept Armin’s countenance. He grabbed his fork and knife and looked to Jean for an explanation.

“Relax _,_ ” Jean said. _‘Though it’s cute as hell when you get all worked up.’_  “Like I said, it’s nothing special.”

Armin was quickly growing annoyed. “Then tell me already. I refuse to eat until I know what this is for.”

Jean grinned with amusement. “I just saw you eat a strawberry, you little liar.” He sat the glasses in front of each of their plates and spared a second to gather himself.

“Last month—exactly thirty days ago, I mean—was the cookout at my parents’ place, and uh… Well, we made out in the kitchen. Remember?”

Armin’s blush became deeper as the whisper of a smile appeared on his face. “I couldn’t forget that if I tried.” Then, the boy began to realize.

“Jean…”

Jean kept his lighthearted disposition. “To me, that kiss meant something. Like, it kicked off this,” He waved his hand around between them. “ _thing_ we have going. I figured we should at least commemorate the date.”

Armin considered his words, smiling brightly when Jean sat next to him.

“God, that’s…” He reached over to clasp Jean’s hand in both of his. “That is incredibly sweet.”

He kissed his knuckles gently, then took to nuzzling his cheek against Jean’s hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice, though. I wasn’t really paying attention to the dates.” He gazed up at him sheepishly.  

“I guess I was just focusing on being happy.”

Jean brushed back some pale blond hair straying from his ponytail. “You don’t need to apologize, ‘Min.” He smiled. “Honestly, I would’ve gladly cooked for you even if there wasn’t an occasion.”

Armin edged close to lean into his shoulder, cuddling him affectionately. “Mm...” He breathed his scent. “There are times I feel I don’t deserve you, Jean Kirschstein.”

Jean flushed at that. Armin’s eyes were fucking _twinkling_ again, and he felt captured. How was anyone meant to resist that?

Jean leaned in when the blond craned up, their lips touching for a languid kiss.  Armin tasted of toothpaste and the remnants of the strawberry he’d just eaten. The combination was bitter, but Jean couldn’t say he minded.

When they pulled apart, Armin nudged his button nose against Jean’s.

  
“So,” His spirits were high. “one whole month, huh?”

Jean gently kissed his nose. “It’s insane to think it’s been that long, but yeah, an entire month.”

 

Jean started to cut his food, pausing when a yawn was heard to his left. It was a sweet, kittenish sound that caused Armin’s eyes to form crescents.

Jean found he was enamored. He softly chuckled and brought a morsel of the waffles to his mouth.

“Tired?”

Armin let out a breath. “I’d think I wouldn’t be the only one. We both came home at like six this morning.” He rubbed his eye again.

Jean smirked. “I got four hours of sleep, but I had to take a 5-hour Energy when I realized my body was ready to be awake.” He observed as Armin stabbed a strawberry with his fork.

“What about you?” Jean asked. “Did you sleep enough?”

Armin’s lids lowered drowsily. Jean thought perhaps not, then.

“Meh. I did sleep for a while, but I kept getting woken up by outside forces so it just became a lost cause.” He thoughtfully chewed the piece of fruit in his mouth.

That kindled Jean’s curiosity. “Outside forces?” He was already growing concerned. Armin held his silence for a time.

“Nightmares,” he mumbled. Jean cocked his head and awaited him to continue.

Armin didn’t look at him. He took his time drinking his juice, then stared down into his waffles.

“I’ve gotten used to them now. They’ve been happening for years...” He sounded weary. “It’s so weird, Jean. I always wake up startled. I feel a chill, and then there’s this anxiety and...” He sighed. “The weirdest part is that I never remember what they’re about. But I know they must be about something terrible.”

Armin was momentarily silent, then added in a low voice, “They started after my dad went to jail.”

Jean pressed his tongue into his cheek and stared at the side of Armin’s face.

Never once had he explicitly told him what happened with that man. Jean had his suspicions, sure, but he’d never know if they had merit unless he was told the truth.

_‘I wonder if he’ll ever tell me…’_

And then, Armin’s next words were spoken with such _contrasting_ rhapsody that Jean nearly flinched.

“But anyhow, these waffles are  _delicious_ , Jean. Like IHOP status.” The blond took another nibble and hummed a sound of delight.

Jean was unconvinced by this farce. He knew the boy was forcing himself to sound happy. It bothered Jean immensely that he still felt the need to do so, even four months later.

\---

**SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 23 RD: 3:10PM**

“It’ll only be for a little while.”

Armin chuckled, gazing at Jean through kind eyes. He saw the exhaustion the youth tried so hard to mask. He was glad he finally was yielding to sleep.

“It’s okay if it’s longer, y’know. It’s not even four,” supplied the blond.

Jean’s expression depicted his disgruntlement. “It’s _not_ okay, ‘Min. I want to spend time with you.” He pouted slightly.

“We have to make the most of today before the dinner, don’t we?”

Jean had never been a stranger to the dramatics. Armin continued to laugh, gently laying his palm on his cheek.

“You getting adequate rest is the most important thing,” he said sweetly. “At least to me.”

Jean said naught, just kept grumbling in opposition. Armin touched his shoulder and drew close.

“Jean.” When that didn’t work, he tried again. Armin claimed his attention quite thoroughly when he called him “Jeanny” and demanded he look at him.

Jean did. His exhaustion was as clear as a cloudless sky.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Armin promised. “I’d like to do the dishes while you nap but that would require leaving your side.”  His cheeks went rosy. “S’pose I’ll just wait until you wake up.”

Pleased by that, Jean repositioned himself, lying on the throw pillow in Armin’s lap. He folded his hands on his abdomen and stretched wiry legs over the end of the couch.

“An angel walks among us,” he said with a smile as Armin gently brushed his fingers through light brown hair.

“Your angel,” he professed tremulously. Jean closed his eyes to sleep, a look of content on his face.

\---

**SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 23 RD: 4:47PM**

Connie arrived home just as Armin was finishing blow-drying his hair. Laying the ceramic object on the sink, he glanced the clock on the Bluetooth speakers sat in the window-shelf.

 _‘We’re leaving in an hour and he’s only just getting home…’_ Armin shook his head with a little, discreet chuckle. How not unlike him.

 

He was grateful for the bathrobe when Connie poked a buzzed head in the doorway of the bathroom.

“Thought Jean would be in here with you,” his roommate japed, a smirk on his lips.

Armin made a face at him through the mirror. “Oh, hush you. He’s in his room getting ready,” he informed matter-of-factly.“You should be too, y’know. We plan to leave at 5:30.” Amin’s hand slid through golden hair.

Connie strode into the bathroom and sat on the lowered toilet lid.

“I got my clothes together before I left, so I’m good.” He grinned. “Just need to shower and get dressed.”

Armin grinned as well, though his gaze remained on his reelection. “That your way of kicking me out, Connie?”

The boy beside him started unbuttoning his flannel. “And here I thought I was being subtle.” He huffed out an exaggerated and theatrical sigh. It brought Amin to titters.

“Fine, I’ll go.” He rubbed Connie’s head before reaching to unplug his blow-dryer. He stowed it in the 5-tier shelving unit next to the sink.

Connie shrugged off his shirt and it fell haphazardly to the floor. Armin had to smother the reprimand about _keeping the apartment tidy._

He left the bathroom on bare feet.

To his immediate left was Jean’s room. Guitar-heavy music blared from the cracked door, and that strong emission of incense seduced his senses.

A fair amount of strength was used to keep his feet moving to his room at the end of the hall.

When he got there, Armin stole inside and shut the door. The robe was off and he jumped into his bed, burrowing his nakedness into the blanket.

Armin knew he should get dressed, but this was where he was most comfortable: without the burdening discomfort of clothes and completely submerged in warmth.

He lay there for a time – three minutes, perhaps – then he disentangled and reluctantly sat up.

Armin envisioned what he would wear, hoping when he put the outfit together it would be acceptable.

Armin had always harshly criticized himself when it came to how he looked; It took a lot to _not_ appear as financially without as he was.

A microfiber sweater over a button-down, skinny pants and the oxfords that had been a staunch staple of Armin’s wardrobe for _years._

He knew on paper he looked nice, but that did nothing to stop the sense of _inadequacy_ that whelmed him.

The jumper he had on had been worn a myriad of times, as had the other articles on his body. Armin sighed at his reflection, brooding for a moment over what it’d be like to be _rich._

 _‘I suppose I’ll never truly know.’_ The thought triggered sadness every time, especially now that it was tacked on with the dreaded reminder than he and Jean were of entirely _different_ worlds.

Despondent, the blond sat back on his bed. He grabbed for the tin of lip balm on his night table and found a slight smile on his lips when his fingers instead touched the angel toy that was perched there.

Analise – he’d named her that – had a place of high honor beside the picture of him, Eren and Mikasa from his birthday the year before. It was to show that she meant a _great deal_ to him. The one who’d gifted her to him did as well.

The sudden raps on his door made his attention shift. Armin was optimistic about whom was on the other side.

His smile grew and he tried not to voice his eagerness when he said, “Come in.”

Then the door clicked open. Jean was there as he’d hoped, leant against the doorframe and looking nothing shy of _utterly gorgeous_ in his semi-formal clothing.

He had a corduroy blazer slung over his shoulder, not on, and the position allotted Armin a marvelous display of that sinewy frame of his.

_‘Good lord...’_

Jean was aware of his eyes completely. His smirk was cocksure, which only served to ensnare Armin further.

“So I was putting the final touches on this outfit and then I had an epiphany.” Jean stepped more into his room. “ _You_ have much better natural light than I do, and your mirror is in direct view of the window.”

He approached his full-body mirror with no other forewarning than that.

“So you just feel entitled to it?” Any bite in Armin’s words was fabricated. He didn’t at all mind Jean’s usage of his mirror, he just felt he needed to prod him a bit.

The blond was entirely caught off guard by Jean’s suddenly guileless look.

“Well I also really wanted an excuse to see you,” he said, smiling honestly.

Armin couldn’t contain a smile of his own. The words may’ve been small, but they tugged his heartstrings all the same.

He noted the affection in his gaze and felt himself melting internally.

“I didn’t say this before, but you look really good, ‘Min.” Jean raked his eyes over his sitting form.  “But then… it would take a lot of effort for you _not_ to look good.” Jean found mirth in his own statement.

Armin dabbed his pinky in the circular tin of balm and applied it, mashing his lips to spread the waxy substance.

“Thank you, Jean.” Armin’s entire face blushed pink in that moment. “You look… really dapper. This type of attire suits you.” His smile was wide and earnest.

Jean grinned and spared a glance to his reelection. “It does, doesn’t it?” He walked closer and perched beside Amin on his bed, their thighs touching.

Jean smelled of his Tom Ford cologne _. Ombré Leather._ Armin had seen a bottle of it in his room before, and had long since acquainted himself with the pleasant scent.

He closed his eyes when Jean kissed his temple, then his nose and finally, his lips. For a short while, Armin was subdued. His lids lifted when a thought suddenly dawned on him.

“Jean.” He roused the boy with his decisive tone. “This only just came to me but I think there’s something we need to discuss.”

Jean looked at him gently, the warmth palpable. “What’s up, angel?”

Armin bit his lip. Once more, he was caught off his guard. He’d not foreseen the effect that would have on his insides. _‘God… don’t call me that. I won’t be able to think straight.’_

“Well, um, I was just thinking… Are we really _ready_ to introduce,” He looked to Jean and slightly tipped his head. _“this_ to everyone? Your mom is sweet enough, sure… But your dad honestly scares the crap out of me, Jean. Who’s to say they won’t disapprove? They’re from a different time and I just—” He sighed, interjecting his own thought.

“So… should we wait, or?”

Only when Jean gripped his dainty hand did Armin notice his fingers were shaking.

“Okay, ‘Min, you need to relax. You look like you might blow a fuse.” His grin was crooked. “It is crucial you breathe.”

But Armin remained tense. It took Jean kissing his shoulder for him to cool and lean into him somewhat, nuzzling his crown of sandy hair.

“You’re scared about tonight. I get it.” Jean caught his azure eyes. “To be real with you, I’m in the same boat.”

Jean never had difficulty conveying his sincerity. Armin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good to know.” Armin smiled mildly.

“But it’s not really about _my_ parents.  My dumbass sister blabbed to them despite me offering to pay for her silence with money.” Jean rolled his eyes and grumbled deep in his throat.

“I don’t think they were too surprised about it, though. They did see how much we flirted that day and Connie has more than once called me on the apparent ‘longing looks’ we so often give each other.” Jean snorted. His expression seemed to perpetuate sourness. Armin could sympathize.

“And I’m sure the whole world knows my mom will love me no matter what I do,” he sighed.

“My dad though… I’m not gonna lie to you, ‘Min. He’s pretty damn set in his conservative ways. I mean, yeah, he knows I’m pan so I don’t think he’s too fazed by the people I bring home anymore. Doesn’t mean he’s gonna like it, but it’s something, yeah?”

Armin tilted his head to the side, allowing what Jean said to marinate. The notion that his parents wouldn’t hate that they were together (Well, Mrs. Kirschstein, at least) was heartening indeed, but something still ate at the boy quite presently.

“Before, you agreed with me about feeling scared, but you did that inflexion when you said it wasn’t about _your_ parents. If not them, then what’s going on?” The question was soft yet resounding.

Jean didn’t relinquish his hold on the smaller’s hand, but it was his turn to shift his gaze away.

“Honestly? Your mother and that… _fiancé_ of hers.” The way Jean phrased it made the word _fiancé_ sound like venom on his tongue.

“Oh. Crap.” Armin had all but forgotten about Nifa and Erwin. In the moments it took to wrack his brain, Armin lacked any cohesive thought. He couldn’t pinpoint how they would react. He didn’t even have an _inkling_. It wasn’t like Armin had any basis of knowing either of them.

“That is entirely valid,” said the blond. “But it’s not like they have any right to judge me.”

He flipped his palm and slid his fingers through Jean’s longer ones in an attempt to seek comfort.

“They don’t.” Jean was ready to be angry. “Honestly fuck both of them. You know my thoughts on the matter.”

Armin _did_ know. Jean was no fan of his mother, nor this new development in her life. The hour-long rant Armin had spewed the night of the cookout was the main foundation for it.

It wasn’t the first time Jean’s opinions were painfully analogous to Eren’s. Armin found it amusing that both boys were so vehemently against any similarities they shared.

He watched Jean swallow and noticed disquiet in his caramel eyes. “I’m still worried, though. How do you think they’ll take to us being…” His words trailed off. “Well, _you know_.”

The blush rising on Armin’s neck promptly spread to his face.

“Boyfriends,” he provided. His hand squeezed over Jean’s to cement that. “That’s what we are, right?”

“Um, yeah I guess…” Jean moved his eyes to his lap, which caused a steadfast grip of _panic_ on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Armin demanded to know. “Why are you looking down?”

Of course Jean was quick to reassure him. He glanced back up to show Armin how _deeply_ he was blushing.

“That was just the first time I’ve heard it,” Jean said, displaying shyness that was unlike him. His blush darkened as the other male touched their foreheads against one another.

“Well, Jean,” An upturned nose nudged to his when possessiveness flared up. “you’re my _boyfriend._ ”

Jean grinned in delight. His arm coiled around the slighter body to force him in closer.

“Yep, I’m yours.” Jean kissed his head. “And you’re mine.”

\---

**SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 23 RD: 7:10PM**

Jean had been right in that his parents were unruffled when they stood before them, hands joined, and announced their new relationship.

Jean’s mother, Colette, beamed while gushing about how _great_ it was that her Jeanbo had snagged someone so cute, and also so levelheaded and smart, too.

The formidably stocky man Armin knew as Mr. Luis Kirschstein had grunted that Jean needed to be careful because, to him, Armin resembled a porcelain doll.

The whole encounter lasted fifteen minutes. Jean spent most of them dispelling claims his mother made that he was a “problem child” and undeserving of someone so good. Armin had laughed while periodically sipping his strawberry lemonade.

The couple was in the midst of excusing themselves when Colette questioned Armin when  _his_ parents would be arriving. He’d disregarded Jean’s scowl and mustered  a charming smile, telling the French woman they were probably running late and that they’d be there soon.

 

A half-hour later and still, there was no sign of them. Armin greatly appreciated the distraction of his friends, otherwise he’d be mired in mental trips about why his mother and Erwin hadn’t made their appearance.

Armin commanded himself to focus on the goings-on in front of him. He saw that Connie had acquired his trusty flask and was discreetly pouring small amounts of its contents into his, Jean, Sasha and Eren’s cups.

Mikasa looked on in disapproval while Krista just kept giggling behind manicured fingers.

“You guys are  _hope_ less,” said the blond girl, drinking in her alcohol-free fruit punch with a headshake and an accompanying grin. “One would think after last night y’all would’ve had your fill of alcohol.”

“There ain’t no such thing,” Connie the Alcoholic said. He grinned at her around his drink to emphasize his point.

Jean swigged his own alcoholic soda, readily cosigning.

“I wasn’t even there and I can attest to that,” chuckled the tallest of the group.

Last night, Sasha hosted an impromptu drinking party to which The Squad plus friends they’d made at college were in attendance.

Armin chose not to go quite avidly because of his mood of not wanting to socialize, yet he kept such truths hidden under the guise of a stomachache.

Either Jean had been wise to his trickery or he was just _good_. It was hard to tell at times. His boyfriend’s adamance to also stay home had warmed Armin from the inside.

He had to wonder if Jean knew he was the exception to his need for solitude.

The blond started at the arm curving his waist. He smiled absently and leaned into the larger body, feeling the rumbling of his chest each time he spoke. Armin nestled himself comfortably into the silkblend fabric of Jean’s shirt.

Looking over, he saw and felt a pierce of enlarged sea-green eyes. Eren was staring at the couple with a hybrid of a smile and a scowl on his lips.

Evidentially, he was undecided if he should feel happy for them or _repulsed_ by the display of affection.

But Mikasa seemed to be in-favor of this new development with Jean. Every so often, she would send Armin one of her secret smiles. The blond was thankful for the small blessing, and Eren’s as well, however halfhearted it might’ve been.  Armin knew it was all he could hope for.

\---

**SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 23 RD: 7:44PM**

_“Hello, this is Nifa Lange. Unfortunately, I have missed your call, but kindly leave your information and I’ll try to get back to you soon. Until then, please have a nice day!”_

Armin almost cringed at the cloying tone. He forced himself to leave a message.

“Hey, Mother… Sorry to be burdensome, but you and Mr. Smith didn’t forget the dinner is tonight, did you? I’ll text you the address of the school just in case. See you soon or… maybe not?”

Armin lowered his phone and ended the one-sided call. He’d done his best not to worry or seem vexed , but it was nearing two hours into the dinner and Nifa nor her beau had arrived.

Armin held the sides of the washroom sink and sighed deep. He couldn’t quite swallow the hopelessness that took form in his mind. _‘They’re probably not here because they don’t want to be around me.’_

Amin stared into the porcelain bowl of the sink.

Then, the washroom door pushed open. The blond lifted his eyes and looked into the mirror, managing to smile politely at the portly, wrinkled man that walked in.

Armin moved towards the exit just as the man brushed past to a stall on the farer end of the washroom.

He was a breath away from colliding with the petite figure hovering by the wall when he left the room.

“Oh, sorry, Armin!”

Krista Reiss was looking at him with surprised delight, taking some steps back on her maryjane pumps.

Armin couldn’t resist another smile.

“No need to apologize, Kris.” He shook his head at the girl. “But hey, why’re you standing outside of the men’s room?”

Krista removed her cardigan and slung the garment over her crossbody.

“My dad just went in there,” she said. “He wants me to stay close so I can introduce him to all my professors.” She groaned and jutted out her lip somewhat. “Not try’na do that right now.”

That brought Armin to laughter. “Isn’t that the point of tonight, though?” His amusement was rivaled with sadness because, in truth, Armin couldn’t relate to her plight. He was in a starkly _opposite_ situation; exempt from the nuisance of overbearing parents.

“Yes, I know.” Krista sighed in exasperation. “I just don’t get why _I_ need to be around for it. The dessert bar has been, like, making come-hither eyes at me this whole time.”

Laughter continued to bubble from his throat. “I could do with a fruit tart right now.”

And just as the agreement left him, an arm slid through his and Armin felt Krista leaning slightly into his side.

“Please kidnap me,” the girl begged.

 

They wove together through the throng of people to the buffet table indicated for desserts. Armin grabbed a fruit tart and Krista a slice of frosted pound cake, sitting with their pastries on one of unoccupied benches lining the ballroom.

Armin tried to look out for their friends – mainly Jean – but the lot of them were with their parents. The blond avoided approaching; He could do without the pity he knew he’d receive when he told him his mother had yet to arrive.

“So… I don’t mean to pry, but,” Krista dug into her cake with a disposable plastic fork. “your parents still aren’t here?”

 _‘You_ are _prying,’_ Armin thought irritably. The topic wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. He hoped those feelings were known when he curtly said, “No.”

Krista sensed his discomfort. Her hand went to his shoulder and she gave him a genuinely sympathetic expression.

“I’m sorry. That’s really shitty.”

“Yeah, maybe so… But I don’t really care,” Armin lied. “My mom and her fiancé whom I don’t know were supposed to show up, but it’s hard for me to feel much since I’m not close to either of them.”

Krista silently stared at him a moment, then leaned back against the wall.

“That really is shitty.” She looked up at the high, dome ceiling. “I’ve been in a similar situation. I know what it’s like to expect too much of deadbeat parents.”

It was comforting to know someone, at least, truly did understand. Oftentimes he heard of Krista’s unfortunate homelife, how her mother was the illicit paramour of some rich man who’d not appeared in Krista’s life until she was a teenager.

“I know you do.” Armin looked at the thighs of his khakis. “But can we drop the subject? I don’t really… like talking about my mother.”

It was upsetting, though he couldn’t see a time in which he _didn’t_ think negatively on Nifa Lange.

Krista’s hand vacated Armin’s shoulder and she flashed a smile. “Consider it dropped.”

Armin was thankful of that. He started on his fruit tart, watching the live jazz band cover a playlist of Duke Ellington songs. The music jogged bittersweet memories of his childhood with his grandfather’s music collection.

Armin’s phone went off with a tone he’d assigned for incoming texts. He _hated himself_ for the first thought that came to him. _‘Mother…?’_ But it wasn’t Nifa. He saw this when he pulled his phone from his pocket and glimpsed the screen. The notification hadn’t been at all what he anticipated.

 

**[SMS from: Bertholdt Hoover]  
** _Hey Armin. What’s up?_

Surprise aside, Armin was glad for the message. He had a great fondness for his colossal friend, and he was a nice respite from the stress of this dinner party.

Skinny fingers swept the touch keypad to type up a response.

**[SMS to: Bertholdt Hoover]**  
_Hey there Bertl! c: It’s nice to here from you.  
And nm is up… how about you? _

**[SMS from: Bertholdt Hoover]**  
_I’m alive so that’s something lol  
Hey isn’t that dinner for the freshmen tonight? _

Armin side-glanced Krista. The female was achatting with some redheaded guy that had come to sit beside her.

From the tone of their voices, they seemed to be flirting. Amin stifled the urge to roll his eyes. Krista was still loath to start anything with Eren, so it wasn’t easy for Armin to support her other romantic endeavors.

Yet Armin neverminded the thought for a moment and gave his attention to his phone.

**[SMS to: Bertholdt Hoover]**  
_It is. Before you ask, no you’re not interrupting anything._  
I wish I was busy but I’m not. :/   
This dinner is beyond dull. Pls save meeee… 

**[SMS from: Bertholdt Hoover]  
** _You’re not with your family?_

**[SMS to: Bertholdt Hoover]**  
_Family who?_  
My mom flaked and all my friends are with THEIR families.   
I’m here all alone :c

Armin wasn’t truly alone, but Bertholdt wasn’t there to see through his lie.

**[SMS from: Bertholdt Hoover]**  
_You play the damsel in distress role well lol_  
Shall I rescue?  


**[SMS to: Bertholdt Hoover]**  
_God yes please.  
Whatchu mean by rescue??_

**[SMS from: Bertholdt Hoover]  
** _It’s the weekend in the world’s fourth largest city. Your pick._

**[SMS to: Bertholdt Hoover]**  
_*Third largest_  
And… going to the movies kinda seems like our thing now lol  
We shan’t break faith. 

**[SMS from: Bertholdt Hoover]  
** _No we shan’t._

“Has anyone ever told you you look like twins?”

Armin looked up from his phone, startled by the voice. Jean was stalking over, that adorably _dorky_ grin adoring his long face. Armin pocketed his phone like he had something to hide.

“ _Everyone_ says that.” Krista crossed one leg over the other, her eyes surveying suspiciously. “Jean… are you tipsy?”

The lanky boy wedged between them on the bench. “Not even. Connie only put a little vodka in my soda.” The protest was followed by an emphatic gulp of the drink he was holding.

Armin squinted, though his demeanor was playful. “You smell like nail-polish remover, Jean,” he chuckled to confirm Krista’s deduction that he was indeed altered by the alcohol.

Jean was resolved to insist otherwise.

“Y’all can fuck off,” he grunted brusquely. “It’s only ‘cause I had a little.”

Armin fingered his smartphone for a few seconds, grinning broadly as he did so.

“The official definition of ‘tipsy’ is _slightly drunk,_ so yes, actually you are.” The blond’s grin morphed into a wry smile. “It’s wild that your parents haven’t caught on yet.”

Jean shrugged his shoulders. “Meh. I know they’ve been hip to the underage drinking for a while now.” He sounded entirely blasé about it. “They probably feel there ain’t shit they can do to stop it. I’m gonna do what I want regardless.”

Shaking his head, Armin chucked and said in a taunting voice, “You really are a problem child, Jean.”

 

Jean’s arm wemt around him and Armin relished the feelings that appeared as a result.

“Did Nifa and Erwin ever show up?”

The knowingness in his question made Armin turn his head, which he figured gave Jean the answer he sought.

Armin hugged onto the larger boy’s middle in a desperate need, like he was starved of his touch. He chose not to think of Krista’s presence right then.

“I think… I wanna go home,” Armin muttered.

“What? Why?” Jean and Krista wondered in a chorus. They both looked bemused, which Armin didn’t fully get. He was unwilling to believe they didn’t have at least some idea to how he was feeling.

“It’s just hat,” Armin blinked down as he unwound from the embrace. “this is a dinner for the students _and_ the parents. Needless to say, I feel out of place.” Armin sighed deep. _‘And seeing everyone with their families is depressing me severely.’_ He kept that grieving confined to the safety of his mind.

Jean was stricken with worry. His hand clasped Armin’s and he held tightly, as if he meant to convey an unsaid emotion with his touch.

“f you do leave, want me to come with you?”

Armin was disarmed by the sincerity of his actions. He squeezed Jean’s hand and stared up into taupe eyes.

“Jean, your parents are here. It wouldn’t  be proper. As much as I do appreciate the sweet offer, I… I think I should go alone.” He spared a small smile and inclined up to kiss him once on the corner of his mouth.

“Besides, I think I could use some quiet time. I still have that stack of books I have yet to even start on.” Armin piped up his tone to give the impression that he was fine.

But Jean’s anxiety endured  There was a long, deafening pause before anyone spoke.

“I’ll be okay, guys. I promise.” Armin looked between Jean and Krista.  “I am well versed in dealing with letdowns. Honestly, I kinda expected this outcome.” It was a sad thing to admit.

Krista once more touched his shoulder, directing her friend into a side-hug. She gently rubbed the length of Armin’s back.

“If you wanna talk or something, don’t be shy to text me,” she told him benignly.

Jean fixed him with a hard look. “If I can, I’m gonna come home early, okay? And call me when you get home so I’ll know you’re safe.”

Armin’s lips lifted into a smile. It truly was beyond him how he’d inspired such care in other people.

“Of course.” He stood from the tuffed bench. His eyes slid from Krista to his boyfriend.

“Tell everyone I’m really sorry, but I had to go, okay?” Armin’s thoughts were chiefly on Eren and Mikasa.

Krista was bummed to see him go, as was the male beside her, but she waved her fingers and blew a small kiss.

“Sure thing, Armin. Please be safe!”

Jean was unsatisfied. He seized his arm and yanked the blond down close to him.  The kiss he gave was sure to abolish all doubts that the two boys were in a relationship.

Krista snorted at the sight and jokingly called out, “Get a room you two!”

Armin had a deep blush on his face and neck when he straightened his back. He tried not to seem so embarrassed as he bade them a farewell and pivoted on the rubber heel of his shoe.

 

Once outside the ballroom, Armin expelled a held breath. Autumn wind licked pleasantly at the strands of his hair while he tugged his phone from his pocket.

The text thread with Bertholdt was opened on his screen. Armin made swift work of composing a response.

 

**[SMS to: Bertholdt Hoover]  
** _Where are you? Let’s meet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Armin u naughty boi


	16. The Whip Hand

**SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 23 RD: 9:14PPM**

Text messages were impersonal. A person’s wont, or their intentions, could easily be lost in the vast world of digital communication.

In no way was Armin to know he’d initiated _flirting_ with Bertholdt. He supposed someone overly scrutinizing the situation _might_ reach that conclusion, but the blond male was blameless in that regard.

Unwitting and unbeknownst, he had led Bertholdt to believe they were going on a date.

But it wasn’t like Armin to be unaware. In hindsight, he _did_ know the texts could be interpreted suggestively, but he hadn’t meant it like that. Armin had only craved comfort from a friend.

He considered the weight of it all during the brief train ride to the plaza, though he’d yet to plan what he’d say to Jean if the other asked where he was for that period of time.

He felt terrible about lying to him, but Armin knew the better option was to appease his testy boyfriend rather than risk enraging him with the truth.

He had duped Jean and Krista into thinking he was going home, but in actuality, it was _so freaking suffocating_ in there and he needed a break. He didn’t want to be alone though, nor did he feel right coaxing Jean into leaving the dinner with  him, so he ran to an unassuming Bertholdt to ease his sorrows.

 _‘Ugh. I’m horrible.’_ Armin blew out a sigh, looking down at the iPhone 6S on his thighs. Jean told him to call when he got home.

 _‘But my phone died…’_ Chewing his lip, Armin pressed the “home” feature and slid his finger across the screen to power it off.

He knew he wasn’t a bad person. He adored Jean, and held their relationship at high value, but Armin had always been more comfortable withholding the truth if it meant he could steer away from any direct conflict.

Upsetting people with honesty was something the blond usually tried to avoid. For now, he’d have to play naïve.

The boy found his saving grace when he remembered the dinner ended at midnight. Ideally, he and Bertholdt would find something short and he’d be at home before Jean realized anything was amiss. The only thing he’d have to fret over then would be the earful he knew he’d receive when Jean interrogated him about why he’d not called him. Armin was confident he could spin that in his favor.

Satisfaction seeped in just as the train stopped at the Madison Plaza station. The plan was impenetrable. His relationship with Jean would prevail.

Armin made his exit of the train and ascended the wide staircase leading up from the mezzanine.

On the other side of the tolls, he saw the tall, dark-haired man that was waiting for him. The sight of Bertholdt put a smile on Armin’s face.

He paid his fare and passed through the heavy metal doors, walking up to Bertholdt where he stood.

“Hey, Armin.” The tall man greeted him with a lift of his arm. It was plainly seen that he didn’t put as much effort into his appearance as the rest of his friends did, but Armin thought casual attire suited him. It was refreshing to not be reminded of his own financial deficit for once.

Armin chirped out his own “hello” and his smile brightened noticeably.

“Good to see you, Bertl.” The blond male put his metro card away into his pants’ pocket. “I really needed an escape from that dinner… You have no idea how crappy of a time I was having.” A pout followed his words as he traveled alongside Bertholdt outside of the station and into the mild September night.

The elder seemed to be genuinely perturbed by that. “I can only imagine...” His eyes went slightly downward. “I really am sorry about your mother, Armin.”  
  
Armin emitted a sigh. “Me too, believe me.” He folded his arms neatly over his chest. “But hey, let’s not dwell on it. I already had a whole train ride to brood over my unfortunate life.”

Armin grinned in spite of his mood, knowing someone that knew him so shallowly would be convinced.

 

The sun had set, but Madison Plaza was illuminated by string lights wound in the trees and the fountain lights, as well as the colonial-style streetlamps lining cobblestone sidewalks.

Armin _loved_ the old-timey atmosphere of this place. It was unlike anything in Shiganshina.

Being there elicited memories of his first week in Trost. Eren had given him a tour of all his favorite spots. They’d stopped at the plaza at evenfall and dined on green tea ice cream from _Häagen-Dazs_.

Now, the boy trailed with Bertholdt to the Regal Cinema across the street, adjacent to that very ice cream shop.

“So, how’ve you been, Armin? I Haven’t really seen much of you these days, except for occasionally around campus.” Bertholdt fixed the boy with a small half-smile.

He spoke the truth. Since starting uni, Armin had his manager reduce his hours at _Olive Garden_ so he had more time to focus on his studies. He saw Bertholdt significantly less as a result. That, and the other male being in a higher grade kept him on another side of the campus entirely.

Armin forced a chipper tone. “Contrary to my lousy evening, I’ve been great,” he said, smiling as he tucked back a fall of blond hair.

“Oh, did I mention I’m dating Jean?” He was sure to point that out. “We’re a serious thing now.”

Just speaking of his absent boyfriend was enough to lift Armin’s spirits by far.

He expected Bertholdt to be surprised, but he appeared unfazed by the information. He continued smiling and shifted their direction to the cinema’s glass-door entrance.

“I gathered as much from how affectionate you guys are on campus.” Bertholdt chuckled at the younger boy. “You weren’t being very discreet, you know.”

Armin’s blush extended all the way down to his neck. His teeth pushed instinctively into his bottom lip.

“W-we weren’t trying to be.” He was clearly flustered by the denotation.

 

Inside the cinema, the lines by the electronic ticket kiosks were short. Armin was thankful for that. The sooner they got to their movie the better.

“What are you in the mood to see, Bertl?” he asked his friend, walking with the brawny figure to the ticket booths.

Bertholdt set his eyes up on the electronic list of films and scanned over it.

“Hm…” He took only a moment to decide. “I think something actiony. That alright with you?”

Armin was smiling when he nodded. “I pretty much live for all genres. Except... romcoms.” He childishly scrunched up his nose. “’Cause they’re just predictable and more oft than not, boring as hell.” He huffed an overly-dramatized breath. Bertholdt chuckled.

 

Just as they reached a consensus on what film to see, the line in front of the kiosk had diminished. Bertholdt leaned his sturdy frame over the machine and fiddled with the touch screen.

“Alright then. I’m getting one adult ticket and one…” He peered over his shoulder at the short blond, looking him up and down with a taunting glint in his eyes.

“One... _child ticket?”_

\---

**SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 23 RD: 9;50PM**

“It’s crowded,” Armin commented, his feet carrying him into Theater 16, the designated room for his and Bertholdt’s chosen movie.

“Looks like we chose well then.” Bertholdt cast an emerald gaze over the dark theater and its occupants.

Armin held a cup of Dibs, his Sour Patch Kids and a Cherry Coke. Bertholdt was carrying the popcorn and a soft drink for himself, as well as a carton of nachos.

Armin rose on his tiptoes so he could see over the sloped wall separating the entryway ramp from the rest of the theater.

The rows were all tightly-packed with people.

“I wanna sit at the back,” Armin said in a decisive tone.

Bertholdt stood next to him. The top of Armin’s head only just came to his shoulder. The different in their heights was probably seen as comical.

“Okay, that’s fine,” Bertholdt said easily. “Do you have a preference or something?” The query came with a lift of black eyebrows.

Grinning, Armin tilted to look up at him. “It’s mostly to spare the other patrons,” he said playfully. “You’re so freaking _colossal,_ Bertl, I doubt anyone would be able to see past your head.”

Bertholdt’s response was drowned by the previews, but it was visible he took offense to the comment.

Armin was forming an apology as they climbed to the back of the theater, but he was unable to get it out when the dark-haired man spoke again.

“This movie looks… _terrible,_ ” he observed, eyes on the screen, where a trailer for some movie that looked like a carbon-copy of _The Hunger Games_ was being shown.

Armin was quick to agree. “Yeah, you’re right.” He nodded. “It looks painfully unoriginal.”

He lowered into the reclining movie seat and placed his cola in the cup-holder. When Bertholdt joined him, it was hard _not_ to notice that the man sat the same way Jean did: with one leg bent and his foot laid over his knee.  Armin swallowed and turned his eyes on the screen. He couldn’t comprehend why he suddenly felt so _guilty._

_‘Wait, why am I feeling guilty? We’re just two friends going to the movies. There’s no harm in that.’_

Right. No harm at all. With an exhale, Armin retired into the plush leather. The last preview had ended and now, the standard Regal intro was heralding the start of the movie. Finally.

He twisted open his Dibs and held over the cup to offer some to Bertholdt.

Armin used a profound deal of might _not_ to marvel at how slender the man’s fingers were when they dipped to grab two of the frozen treats.  

 _‘Stop that...’_ The blond mentally kicked himself and shut his eyes. They opened again to the other male turned to him with a curious expression.

“Are you alright?” Bertholdt’s voice was hushed. A second passed before Armin nodded and gingerly ghosted his fingers over his forehead.

“Yep, just got a little brain freeze from the Dibs,” he lied.

_‘…I’m allowed to think a friend is hot...’_

Of course he was. Eren was definitely hot. Connie was hot, in his baby-face-with-freakishly-bulky-muscles kind of way. Jean’s brother was _obscenely_ hot, and of course, all his female friends were proper goddesses _._

Thinking these things didn’t mean Armin was ready to _hop into bed_ with any of them, so why fret?

He sucked in a steadying breath, wondering what his _boyfriend_ might be up to while the opening screen of the movie played before his eyes.

\---

**MONDAY, SEPTEMBBER 24 TH: 12:02AM**

It took a few hours for his buzz to wear off, but immediately when it had, Jean spared little time in leaving his parents at the dinner and rushing to the apartment by way of his car.

The alcohol only dimmed his mind enough to keep him from _not_ worrying over Armin every ten seconds, but now he was sober, and his need for firsthand assurance that the blond was alright was immensely overwhelming.

It pained him to imagine his sweet boyfriend alone in the apartment, without anyone to comfort him about his shitty parental situation.

 _‘Why was I not more persistent? I should’ve gone home with him…’_  Jean was regretting it more and more. There was no question that Armin _needed_ him. He clenched his jaw as his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

It took seven minutes for Jean to reach Trost State’s student housing district, and when he pulled into his complex, he gratefully noted that the parking lot in front of his building was nearly empty.

_‘Good.’_

Jean parked his car, turned off the engine and bolted from the four-seater vehicle. He saw no light behind the curtains draping Armin’s street window.

Jean hoped that meant he was asleep. It would do well to explain why Armin hadn’t been answering any of his calls.

He’d tried the boy _eight times_ since he had left, and each met a monotonous deliverance of the standard voicemail message.

Jean did his damnedest to not get angry about that. Armin was likely in a shit mood and not up for interacting, but still it bothered him that he’d not at least _texted him_ to let Jean know he was alive.

He sped the short distance to his building and slipped inside after unlocking the double doors with the sensor.

Jean thought more about it during his elevator ride, and he began to seriously hope Armin was sleeping.

If not, he doubted he could thwart his fury. Jean didn’t want to feel such an intense bitterness towards his boyfriend.

His mind drifted to what Eren told him earlier that night, and his gears shifted somewhat.

 _“He may not admit it, but Armin is really hurting right now. Try to be understanding and_ not _be a dick, okay?”_

Jean thought that obvious, and made certain to voice the sentiment, but he did quietly thank Eren for his try at supporting their relationship. It was sort of nice to see that the Jaeger-fuck didn’t _completely_ despise that they were together.

Jean walked out of the lift when it came to the third floor. He’d been so _engrossed_ in thoughts of Armin  that he didn’t notice the telling light peeking from beneath the door sweep when entering his apartment.

 

“…Jean?”

Jean started at the voice. Armin was in the kitchen, perched sideways on one of the barstools with his hand around a black ceramic mug. The boy stared at Jean as if he was disbelieving he was even standing there.

“Hey, Armin…” Jean was unsure of what to ask him first. _Why didn’t you answer your phone? Are you okay? Have you spoken with your mother at all?_

Armin uncurled his hand from the mug and rose, ambling over to the taller boy on his socked feet.

“You’re home early...” Armin’s head tipped to the side like a curious puppy.

Jean glanced down at him. “I told you I would be, didn’t I?” It was hard not to mentally note how _adorable_ he looked right then.

“You had alcohol in you when you said that.” Armin grinned. “I didn’t think you were being serious.”

“Well, I was seriously worried, so…” No thought was put into his arms encasing Armin and pulling him into his torso. Holding the boy felt instinctive.

Armin pressed his chin to his collarbone. A gentle smile claimed his features when he leaned up to catch his gaze.

“You didn’t have to worry, you know.” He kissed the line of his jaw. “I’m just peachy.”

 _‘You’re an idiot, ‘Min. Who do you think you’re  fooling?’_ But even those thoughts were powerless to abstain Jean from laying a tender kiss upon his lips.

Armin smiled into him and his arms went around Jean’s neck. For a second, he almost forgot the true reason for his coming home.

_Almost._

Jean felt the little creature tense in his arms when a rustling was heard behind them.

Jean reeled himself back and looked with confused eyes. He felt Armin’s hand squeeze onto the muscles of his forearm.

“J-Jean, I— Wait…”

There was an instant of Jean just staring at the man that had emerged from the hallway.  His narrowed eyes fell on Armin.

“What the fuck is this?”

Bertholdt Hoover was there, looking nothing shy of a deer caught in the headlights as he stood in the living room. Jean didn’t miss the bead of sweat that appeared from under his fringe.

He shrugged Armin’s hand off and approached him in firm strides.

That tall stalk of a man regarded him warily. “H-Hey there, Jean...” He pronounced the words in a timid speech pattern.

“What are you doing here?” Jean snapped, displaying no sympathy.

Armin sprang to his side again. He rubbed Jean’s arm to soothe his wound nerves, though it was completely ineffective.

His boyfriend favored a bull, snarling and snorting as it geared up to strike its prey. Armin winced.

“I was trying to kill time until you and Connie got here.I decided I should probably do some laundry.” His hold tightened on him.

“While my clothes were drying, I took a walk around the complex and happened to run into Bertl. We sparked up a conversation and since he had nothing else to do, I invited the poor guy up to have tea with me.”

Armin seemed to be making a conscious effort _not_ to upset him.

“I, um…” Bertholdt spoke up after clearing his throat. “went back there to use your restroom.” He jerked his head to the hallway.

Even with the difference in height and general body mass, Bertholdt averted his eyes like he _feared_ looking at Jean. It made the younger male feel quite superior.

“That was good of you, ‘Min.” Jean’s hand rested possessively on Armin’s head. “I’m here now, though, so it seems to me that Bertholdt is free to go home.” Jean wasn’t keen on masking his anger.

His insolent attitude clearly annoyed Armin, though.

“Jean, you don’t have to—” _be a dick_ was what it felt he was fixing to say, but the boy was interjected by Bertholdt.

“No, Armin,” he said. “Jean’s right. It’s after midnight, so… I suppose now it’s time for me to leave.”

The man collected his fleece from its place on the couch. Jean was pleased that he was being so _agreeable._ His veiny hand fell to Armin’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze.

“I apologize if I overstepped any boundaries.” Bertholdt’s face actually held some remorse. Jean felt no need to speak since all he had to say was rude. It was evident the blond was annoyed with him already.

“You didn’t,” Armin reassured the man when he approached the front door. His eyes shifted momentarily to glare at Jean.

“There’s nothing wrong with having tea with a friend, is there?” Armin blinked and crossed his arms. It was unclear of whom that was directed to, but Jean had a feeling he meant to make a point.

The taller boy exhaled and returned his arm to his side, eyes training on Armin’s face.

“There is when you blatantly _ignore_ your boyfriend’s calls while doing so.” It was useless to try and keep the malice out of his words.   

Bertholdt’s hand hovered on the doorknob. “Um, thank you for the tea. I think I’ll leave, then.”

 _‘Please do.’_ Jean felt a prick of blue eyes burning into the side of his head. Had Armin read his thoughts?

“Have a good night, Bertl.” The blond boy managed a smile, though his irritation was bare to see. Jean had a bad feeling about what would occur between them when the door closed.

“Yeah, you guys too.”

The man took his leave of the apartment. Armin moved away from Jean’s side and stared pointedly up at him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer my phone,” he said.

Jean knew the words were meant more to spite than to actually apologize. He sighed at the terse attitude.

“Are you really?”

Armin had begun walking back towards the kitchen, but halted when the serrated edge of Jean’s voice reached him.

“Seriously, Jean?” Armin spun to face him again, frowning with a notable wrinkle in his brow. “Of course I am.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe that.” Sharp brown eyes bore into him with some purpose. “At what point when you were chilling with Bertholdt did it occur to you to _call your fucking boyfriend_ and tell him you were okay? Did that cross your mind at all?”

Armin was glowering at him now. He bit his lip, his eyes searching for something indecipherable.

“Jean, don’t do that—”

“Do _what_?” Jean’s voice rose exponentially in volume. “I’m just asking questions, which you need to answer instead of being so fucking evasive.”

Armin looked of equal parts wounded and brimming with rage. His fingers twitched slightly. “Okay, _do not_ raise your voice at me, Jean. You need to chill.” He glanced away from him and curled his hands into a fist.

“I wasn’t in the mood to talk. And before you say ‘but you were talking to Bertholdt’, yes, I was. I knew I wouldn’t be subject to a freaking _interrogation_ when I was with him, and I really,  _really,_  didn’t want to talk about it.” His glare was prevalent on his face.

Jean pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Do you hear how selfish you sound? Armin—”

“Let me get my thought out,” he snapped. Jean would be lying if he said the tone didn’t scare him a bit.

“It’s not for the reasons you think. I promise you that. I just didn’t want people asking me if I’m okay, and having to repeatedly explain that ‘yes, I’m fine but stop asking before I have a conniption’.” He grumbled. “I needed time on my own, but also I didn’t wanna sit here by myself so I invited Bertholdt to hang out with me.” 

Armin pouted somewhat. Jean tried to hold his ground and not be affected.

“Was that wrong?”

Jean gave his boyfriend a hard look and watched him recoil slightly.  “Well, yeah. Like I said, it was definitely selfish.”

Armin sighed through his nose. “I really am sorry. I guess it didn’t feel like that big of a deal to me…”

“Are you kidding?” Jean’s agitation broadened significantly. “Armin, you’re too smart for this. I’m your  _boyfriend_. Yes, it’s a huge fuckin’ deal when I come home after worrying _sick_ over you to find you just chilling with some random dude in  _our_ apartment.”

“Bertl isn’t random,” Armin corrected softly.  That only made Jean more irate.

“You’re missing the point. I was _worried_. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He stared intensely into his oceanic eyes. “Do you care about that?”

There was a brief instant of Armin not talking. His gaze went downcast.

“You gonna answer me?” Jean pressed him.

“I’m… Crap. I’m sorry, Jean.” This time, when he apologized, Jean could detect no venom in it. The boy actually looked a little destroyed. Jean deflected the urge to reach for him.

“I care,” Armin said around a sigh. “I’m sorry for not realizing how much you do. Having someone fuss over me like this… Well, it’s new territory. I’ve not really experienced it outside of the Jaegers. And while they’ve been supportive… I can’t say they always _understand_ what’s wrong. It’s just easier to keep things to myself for the most part.”

It was truly shameful how _effortlessly_ the blond had disarmed him. Jean cursed the speed in which the anger rolled off of him.

“I get it.” The taller nodded. “But, Armin… I hate it when you shut me out. I asked you not to do that, remember?”

Armin kept silent. Jean hadn’t at all expected a bundle of blond to land into his arms. Armin nestled, caressing the rigid muscles on Jean’s torso to ease his boyfriend into the embrace.

“I know. I’m working on it…” Armin’s voice was somewhat muffled by the fine fabric of Jean’s shirt. He took his arms and _forced_ a hug, breathing the woody scent of his cologne. 

“I don’t… want to fight like that again.”

Jean snorted a low, rumbling chuckle. “It wasn’t really a fight.”

Armin drew back some and his lip jutted outward. “It was. And I hated it. I can’t abide the feelings I get when you’re mad at me.”

“But it’s only happened once.” Jean tapped the end of his nose with his finger. “Look, let’s not talk about this right now, okay? It’s unpleasant. The important thing is that you know how I feel.”

Armin nodded plaintively. He reached for Jean’s hand, entwining their fingers with an affectionate squeeze.

Jean wished he could reciprocate his emotion, but there was some negativity that lingered. He sighed into the thickness of his hair.

Armin kissing the pad of skin between his thumb and forefinger sparked Jean’s attention again.

“Are we okay?” Armin wondered, the question soft and tremulous on his tongue.

Discomfort aside, Jean inclined a bit and delivered a kiss to Armin’s temple. He pushed back his fringe and spared the tiniest of smiles.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “we’re okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awh... their first fight. Ngl, I had some fun writing that.


	17. All The Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, updating slightly earlier than usual.
> 
> If I continue doing one chapter per month, this fic will be finished in January 2020. Though… there’s no telling if I’ll actually keep to this schedule. It’s just on the record when it SHOULD be done, so anyone paying attention can kick me if I finish late. Lol.
> 
> Continuing with the announcements, here are some things to be aware of in this chapter:  
> 1) The beginning is a little saucy, ahem  
> 2) There are some heavy implications of Armin’s childhood

**MONDAY, OCTOBER 2 ND: 7:57AM**

“You know… when I said I needed a wakeup call, t-this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind…”

Jean smirked at the trembling boy. “What were you thinking then, hm?”

His tongue laved hotly over the flesh beneath Armin’s ear, hoping to render him speechless.

“M-maybe…” Armin breathed to collect himself. “Maybe coffee… or a 5-hour Energy, or perhaps— Oh, wait, _Jean…”_

Armin’s fingernails pressed into muscled biceps as he continued his  meandering about how they’d only just woken up and soon, he’d have to get ready for class (which was a load of shit; Armin’s first class wasn’t until noon and they both knew it).

Beneath his protests, though, there were evocative sighs of “Oh, Jean” and “Yes” and that was all the other boy had a mind to listen to.

His lower half rutted against Armin’s, earning a particularly _loud_ gasp from the male trapped under his weight.

 _‘So cute, Armin. Fuck.’_ Jean chuckled into his creamy skin, a moan of his own forced out when his backside was grabbed at through the knit joggers he had on.

“Do that again,” came the throaty demand from Armin. Jean could barely heed him before a vibrating sound to their left interfered.

“Fuck…” Jean groaned.

Prompted by it, Armin leaned on his elbows and gently nudged the larger body away.

“My phone…”

Jean sighed, clearly peeved. “Ignore it.”

But Armin looked conflicted. His entire face and neck were flushed when he turned up his eyes.

“Let me just see who it is.” He pursed his lips.

“You and I both know there’s only _one person_ that would even call you this early,” groused Jean, sighing as he detached from Armin.

That was it, they were through. It was painfully apparent when the blond fetched his iPhone and looked at it.

“It’s Nifa,” he remarked.

Jean lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah, I figured. You’re not gonna answer it, are you?”

“I think…” Armin wetted his lips. “I think I should.”

Jean grunted at that. “For fuck’s sake, Armin. You’ve been ignoring this woman for a week and you choose _now of all times_ to speak to her?”

But Jean knew of his reply, and he couldn’t say it was surprising.

This wasn’t the first time Armin had stopped them amidst their… _rendezvouses_ for something stupid.

Jean forgave him before, but now, he was putting _his mother_ – the woman who had completely screwed him over a week before – over spending time with his adoring and absolutely _whipped_ boyfriend.

It was unfair, and reeked heavily of bullshit.

Jean’s hands folded on his abdomen. He partly listened to Armin speak with Nifa.

 _Hello, Mother. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve been awake for a while. No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t expecting anything._ A dry laugh, then _, Right now? Oh, um… okay._

Armin paused before he ended the call and placed his phone on one of his many pillows.

He rested his body over Jean’s, looming with his legs on either side of his longer ones. The frown he wore let Jean know they were _not_ about to continue.

“Don’t hate me…” Armin sighed through a parted mouth.

Jean snorted. “As if I ever could.” It was embarrassing how _honest_ that statement was.

“What’s going on?”

Armin’s frustration was blatant. “Nifa and Erwin want me to stop by their condo before class.” He said it like he was the one at fault.

“Really now?” Jean gritted his teeth. Hoping to change the mood, he pulled the boy flush into him with no space to speak of between their bodies.

“Armin...” The sensual timber of Jean’s voice brought the blond to shivers. He made sure he knew of the hardness stirring below when he pushed up and _ground_ into him.

“ _That’s_ what you’re leaving behind if you go.”

Armin’s stomach tightened and he mewled in response. His arms laid beside his head so he could hoist up over Jean.

“Don’t make this hard for me…” It was but a soft, desperate plea.

Jean’s smirk slipped away. He’d admit he had impure intentions at the start, but now, he could only manage concern.

Jean’s hand brushed locks of Armin’s hair from a heart-shaped face.

“Is there a reason you don’t want to get close to me?” The uncomfortable question had been sitting at the back of Jean’s mind for a while now.

For a moment, Armin didn’t seem as if he was going to speak. He held Jean’s eyes though, until he rolled off and repositioned to sit on his boyfriend’s bed.

Armin’s head hung. “Don’t be silly.”

\---

**MONDAY, OCTOBER 2 ND: 11:40AM**

At tunes, Jean may’ve been dense, but he would hardly name himself unintelligent. He had the high GPA he’d maintained all throughout high school to boast that much.

So, of course, when Armin denied using the meeting with his mother and her new fiancé to avoid intimacy with him, Jean knew _something_ had gone askew. He just had yet to uncover what it was.

It wasn’t like he was expecting them to have _sex_ yet (though he certainly wouldn’t decline if offered), but Jean and Armin had been going strong for more than a month now…

He wanted to _touch_ the boy—to do more than what they were doing, which was an excess of kissing and holding hands and all else explanatory of a budding relationship.

Those things were nice for sure, but Jean had urges he’d much rather Armin satisfy than do himself, which had been his fate since their _engagements_ began.

At first, Jean assumed Armin might not be into it—that, perhaps, he felt pressured, but two out of the four times had been _initiated_ by the blond. That only increased Jean’s frustration.

 _Every single time_ he got his hand under his shirt, the blond was off yammering about his stomach pains, or how allegedly _cold_ Jean’s hands were.

The claims were so obviously crusted in bullshit. They brought about confusion as well.

That was why Jean sat in the campus coffee shop after his morning class, picking dispassionately at a lemon biscotti as he waited on the arrival of a _certain someone._

He needed to discuss his dilemma with someone that wasn’t Connie. Someone that, as much as he hated to admit, knew his boyfriend _bounds_ better than he did, and could hopefully offer a better deduction of what was going on with him.

 

Eren Jaeger walked into _The Bean_ minutes before the twelve o’clock hour. He had on their high school’s ‘Class of 2017’ sweatshirt with the big blue falcon head and the list of all the graduating seniors on the back. His faded jeans were ripped to his thigh.

 _‘Fucking tacky...’_ Jean shook his head as he eyed him up.

Eren maneuvered through the shop, greeting some familiar faces and then dropping down across from where Jean sat.

“Your bitch face is a lot more intense than normal, Jean.” Eren grinned.

“It’s a side effect of seeing you,” Jean grunted. The comment lacked its usual hostility; Jean was presently too stressed to humor Eren with verbal abuse.

His friend seemed to notice.  Looking at Jean inquisitively, he rested his arm over the tabletop.

“Something’s bothering you, dude.” It wasn’t a question. Jean rolled his eyes at the obvious observation.

“No shit,” he said. “I’d think my text made that clear.”

Before his class started, Jean texted Eren asking to talk. He had been ambiguous when Eren questioned what about, deeming it too heavy to talk about over texts. They decided to convene at _The Bean_ early that afternoon.

“So what is it?” Eren blinked. He attached to the first conclusion his mind conjured up and smirked. “This about a certain _blond cherub_ we both know?”

He’d meant it in jest, but Jean’s frown indicated there was more to it. Eren immediately became protective of his childhood friend.

“Wait, is it really?” he questioned sharply. “What the fuck did you do to Armin?”

“It’s more what I didn’t do, bro.” Jean’s chuckle had no humor behind it. He tore off some of his biscotti and raised it to his mouth.

Eren was not following. His eyebrows drew in and his head cocked somewhat to the side.

“Wha’dya mean?”

At that, Jean sighed. He had to mentally prepare for the ridicule he knew he’d receive upon telling Eren the extent of his problem.

Or, maybe, he’d suffer a fist to the face. He wasn’t sure _how_ his friend would respond, but Jean saw no option but to suck it up and explain. That was what he did.

Jean recounted his woes in some detail. He tried not to leave anything out, which wasn’t easy and also induced embarrassment.

Between his griping, Jean periodically nibbled on his biscotti until he was left with naught but a crumby napkin. He wiped the corner of his lips.

“…It’s happened  _every time_ , Eren. I shit you not.  _Every fucking time_.” Jean waved his fingers for emphasis.

He felt bare once Eren knew the whole of it, but also relieved that he could now give Jean advice. Or something.

“So what d’you think?” Jean asked. “In your learned opinion, would you say Armin is… losing interest in me?”

The thought of that caused an unpleasant turn in Jean’s stomach. He doubted he could cope if that was what it was.

For a second, Eren was silent. He checked the time on his phone and then breathed a heavy sigh.

“Usually, I’d be _glad_ for the opportunity to fuck with you, but…” He averted teal eyes. “I don’t think I should. Not about this.”

Jean could _feel_ the trepidation Eren exuded. That prompted nervousness. He wasn’t ready for him to elaborate.

“It’s… not you, dude.” Eren was actually sincere; something Jean didn’t often see when it was concerning him.

“I’m not going into detail with this because it’s not my place. I’d like to think… Armin will eventually tell you when he’s ready.” The brunet’s eyes were glued on the wooden surface of the table.

“Is it bad?” Jean frowned, already suspecting the answer.

There was a breath when Eren was unresponsive. He swallowed down a lump in his throat.

“Something happened. When Armin was younger…”

Jean was unprepared for the knowledge he was on the verge of discovering, but he was also quite intrigued.

“It was awful, Jean... He didn’t deserve that shit. I just—”

The brunet abruptly interrupted his own thought.

“Okay… But listen.” He cleared his throat. “It isn’t that he doesn’t want to get intimate. From what you told me, it seems like he does… He’s just… uncomfortable about it.” He exhaled through his nose.

“This thing that happened… Armin thinks he has me fooled when he says he doesn’t care. ‘It’s in the past, so why does it matter?’ _Of course_ it matters, Armin. You were—”

Eren stopped himself again. Jean’s nails were digging into the back of his hand, his eyes wide.

“Oh my god.” All Jean could think of was his father. Not knowing the full story didn’t stop his mind from creating his own ideas of what had happened. And now, Eren was saying these things—

_‘Fuck. Armin, no…’_

“From your reaction, I’m guessing you already know something, or…?” Eren finally relaxed his jaw and peered across the table at him.

Jean hoped he could gather himself to a point where he could manage a coherent sentence. It was doubtful; The way his heart pounded… Eren must’ve heard it.

“I know that his father went to jail and… from the hints Armin’s been dropping, I mean I know… but also, I don’t? Like he’s never explicitly told me But now, I think…” Jean had to break Eren’s gaze.

“You have all the pieces,” the male across from him was saving, “now just… put them together. You’re not _that_ stupid.”

Jean didn’t need to, in truth. He already knew. He had for some time, as much as it pained him to admit. He felt suddenly _restless_ in his seat inside the coffee shop.

“Fuck.” Jean’s voice just barely climbed above a whisper.  “Armin… didn’t deserve that…”

It was dreadful to think about. Jean found that currently, he wanted nothing more than to smother his boyfriend in affection. He’d make a point to do so the next time they saw each other.

“Don’t ask him about this, Jean.” Eren’s frown was deep. “Or if you do, don’t make it seem like you already know something. He’ll _know_ it was me. Armin is… really fucking scary when he’s mad.”

He looked genuinely fearful about the prospect of angering him. “I’d rather not deal with that backlash.”

Jean sighed and set his eyes back on the brunet. “I’m not entirely sure I even _want_ to know right now. Armin can tell me when he’s ready…”

He didn’t know how he’d take to the confirmation that he was indeed _abused_ as a child. Thiinking of it now upset him, and he only had his assumptions to go by.

“Jean.” Eren pronounced the single syllable of his name to get his attention. “There’s… something else.”

A groan was expelled from Jean’s lips. “I really don’t think I have the mental capacity for anymore revelations, Jaeger.”

Eren rolled his eyes at his attitude. “Just listen. I do think Armin wants to, um… _have sex_ with you.” The other boy was uncomfortable saying that.

“I’m assuming that because you said he initiates it sometimes, right?  Maybe, like… he thinks he’s ready, then realizes he’s not and stops when it doesn’t feel right.” He paused.

“I think he’s just fooling himself, Jean. Doing those things with you will serve as some kind of confirmation that he’s fine. But he’s _not_ fine. You get me?”

Jean looked to the side as Eren’s words sank in. Yes, that would explain a lot, (namely, why his boyfriend was acting so _indecisive_ as of late) but instead of it giving him peace of mind, Jean felt a great deal of guilt.

He’d pushed Armin into an uncomfortable situation and likely triggered some _awful_ memories in the process. 

Jean frowned at his delinquency, but would not lose his composure in front of Eren-fucking-Jaeger. Instead of lamenting over his remorse, Jean quietly commented, “You’re a lot smarter than you look, y’know.”

“I know Armin better than he probably thinks.” Eren smiled wistfully. “I know he just… wants someone to make him feel safe. And loved. So I think maybe you should wait a while before trying to get into his pants again? Or, at least until he tells you about his father…”

Eren looked unsettled, probably because he just gave Jean permission to _debauch_ his best friend.

Though that wasn’t his focus _;_ Jean was chiefly concerned with making Armin happy and, as Eren had directed, safe and loved.

He may not have been experiencing something as strong as love yet, but what he felt for him was certainly close.

Jean knew what would arise in the future. The thought made him smile, then he remembered where he was (and who was sitting at the other end of the table) and it slipped right from his lips.

“Thanks for this, Jaeger,” Jean said, looking up. “You don’t have to worry though, I don’t plan on continuing my pursuits for a while. Armin’s comfort… That’s the most important thing right now.”

Jean made to convey that in the steadfast way he stared. A relieved sigh escaped the other’s mouth.

“I’m trusting you to take care of him,” he told Jean. “I know you’re not _completely_ shitty, Jean.”

It was nice that Eren seemed to realize Jean had no nefarious intentions with Armin. He’d like to think it was his way of giving them his blessing.

“Well thanks.” Jean’s expression grew slightly warmer. “I don’t know about not being shitty though.”  

“I did only say not _completely_.” Eren laughed the words out, shaking his head.

\---

**MONDAY, OCTOBER 2 ND: 6:13PM**

There was something calming about the sound of crashing waves. Armin appreciated this as he passed along the boardwalk of one of Trost’s many beaches.

The advent of October was no hindrance for the townspeople; There were congregations near the water in what seemed like every day.

Armin liked that about Trost. The warm weather, and the native customs, were preferred to the bleakness of his hometown.

The tension in Armin’s mood eased off just from his proximity to the beach. It was as if he’d not even met with Nifa and Erwin, although he knew he had.

Even now, the discomfort was rooted in the back of his mind.

The meeting hadn’t been bad, per se, but it was emotionally taxing. Their apology for missing the dinner fell on deaf ears. It took that for Armin to realize he’d grown jaded towards being disappointed— especially by his mother.

It had nearly been too much when he revealed the latest installment in his life: Jean. Nifa and Erwin both exhibited restrained disgust, but at least his mother donned a mask of courtesy.

After their quarrelsome discussion over his sexual and romantic preferences, Nifa had surprised him when she (albeit stiffly) proposed he and Jean join them for dinner the following week.

Apparently, Erwin’s birthday was approaching but he’d be on a business trip on the actual date, so Nifa wanted to prepare her _beloved fiancé_ a dinner beforehand.

“I’d like to meet Jean” was her explanation when Armin questioned her. By then, he was weary of further interaction, so he tersely said he’d have to talk to Jean about it first.

He hoped his boyfriend would say he didn’t want to go.

Armin stopped at the little express confectionary on the boardwalk, looking to buy comfort food.

He excitedly mused over the possibility of eating a glazed doughnut. The second he stepped into line, Armin’s phone rang with the distinct alert of an incoming FaceTime call.

It was Jean. Armin happily noted this while bringing his phone up to his face. He couldn’t have been more thankful for a distraction. The call was answered on instant.

The sight of his handsome boyfriend, even through his phone and not to scale, sufficed to make Armin swoon.

It seemed Jean was on a mission to capture him when he smiled into the camera and said, “Hey, angel.”

Armin dug into his pocket for his earbuds and popped them into his phone. He put them on, then smiled back at the image portrayed before him.

“Hey.” It was hard to keep from melting a fraction when he called him that. Armin was sure his affected state was obvious by his blushed cheeks.

“Where are you right now?” Jean pushed his fingers into brown hair. “Will you be home soon?”

Armin couldn’t refrain from chuckling at his persistence. “I decided to take the scenic route,” he said. “Right now, I’m just about to pass the beach. But I stopped for a snack.”

Jean’s expression was pleased and his smile remained intact.

“It won’t be long until we see each other, then. Armin, I’ve really been missin’ you.”

Armin grinned. “We saw each other this morning.” He was sure to remind him, yet the blond couldn’t deny he was like-minded in that particular area.

 _I miss you too_ sat precariously at his lips.

“This morning is not right now,” Jean carried on stubbornly. “It’s been like nine hours. That’s more than enough time to wanna see your man again.”

Then he pouted, and Armin was powerless to the effect it had on him.

“You’re adorable.”  He giggled, telling the other to wait while he ordered his food.

Armin got himself a doughnut, as he so passionately craved. He paid for it with cash from the expensive leather wallet that had been a gift from Grisha Jaeger once upon a time.

The item was, by far, the most luxurious thing Armin owned.

He resumed his call with Jean after skittering away from the confectionary.

“Jealous?” The blond teasingly held the sweet aliment up for his boyfriend to see.

Jean spoke with unabashed honesty, as was his wont.  

“That it gets to touch your lips, yeah.”

His words were so _drenched in sugar._ Armin couldn’t keep the blush off his cheeks.

“You’re so cheesy...” He laughed demurely. Silent moments passed before Armin roused his attention a second time.

“Jean, um, there’s… something I need to talk to you about.” He had to stop delaying the inevitable.

Jean’s expression became worried. “That doesn’t sound good. Is everything alright?”

Armin smiled to quickly reassure him. “Kind of? It’s... just that, my mother and Mr. Smith… They’re having a dinner next Wednesday. At their place.” He nibbled on the end of doughnut.

“And we were invited. Like, as a couple.”

That struck Jean. A wrinkle appeared in his brow and he looked stunned. “You told them about us?”

“Um, yeah,” Armin said in a shy voice. “This morning I did. That was okay, right?”

The smile Jean wore was wrought hugely into his features. “Of course! I’m actually really happy about this, which is weird, right?”

Armin’s smile was smaller, but it was still present. “I’m glad.” He meant it. Seeing the boost in Jean’s mood was definitely something pleasant.

“But yeah, it is. Why’re you happy?”

The motion of the other male running fingers through his hair shouldn’t have been that spellbinding.

“I know she’s a flake but Nifa’s still your mother. And if she really does marry that Erwin dude, he’ll be your father.” The prospect was unnerving to the both of them, clearly, but the falter in Jean’s disposition was barely seen.

“Kinda feels like I’m meeting the parents, doesn’t it?”

Armin sported a grin. It was endearing, if not a little surprising, that Jean was so _ardent_ about this.

“Guess I don’t have to ask if you want to come to the dinner,” Armin said, smiling gently at his boyfriend. “You seem pretty enthusiastic.”

“I’m excited to show them both how much happier you are with me.” Conceit emanated from his words, but Armin wouldn’t discredit the truth. He laughed audibly and shook his head at his ridiculousness.

“Happy?” He stared into the camera with a suddenly stony expression. “Presumptuous as always, aren’t you? I don’t know if that’s completely accurate.”

Jean’s smirk ebbed away immediately. He looked wounded.

“What’re you saying?”

Seeing his upset made Armin  hesitant to keep toying with him. It was apparent his boyfriend’s wit wasn’t as sharp as usual. Armin knew it was because he was so _trusting_ of him. Right then, his insides were the likeness of molten lava.

_‘I can wholeheartedly see myself falling in love with you in the future, Jean…’_

“Not happy,” Armin said in a sweet voice, trying to do damage control. “ _Ecstatic._ ”

His amendment brought Jean’s smile back in full force. He exhaled held breath and leaned back dramatically.

“You little shit!” Amber eyes narrowed, but his countenance was clearly playful.

“You really had me going there. Fuck...”

 “I noticed.” Armin had to giggle. “Not my fault you’re so gullible, Jeanny.”

Even while teasing him, his smile was affectionate. Jean really was a cutie sometimes, especially with his face red and looking horrendously embarrassed.

“How close are you now?” his boyfriend wondered in an obvious attempt to change the subject. Armin would indulge him; He though Jean had suffered enough.

“Mmm, I can see our building now.” Armin’s neck tilted up to the hi-rise apartment.

“Want me to stay on call with you while I come up?”

Jean’s nod was so energetic and eager. It made Armin laugh.

“Yes!”

 

The couple only got off the phone when Armin reached the third floor on his elevator ride.

It was strangely hard to say goodbye to Jean. He’d be in his presence soon, so it was completely unfathomable that Armin felt such _emptiness_ from a moment of not speaking.

_‘Why? Why am I so fond of Jean at such an early stage?’_

They’d only been dating for a month and change, so, realistically, Armin knew it wasn’t proper to long for him with this much intensity.

He did though; Oftentimes, all he needed was to be near Jean to give him solace. That alone was cause for him to worry.

Armin didn’t want to be fanciful and say it was the universe’s doing, but what else could explain it? There was just no way this was normal.

Feeling so strongly so soon… There had to be an outside force at work here.

Armin sighed just from thinking about it. _‘This is shameful…’_

He pulled out his keyring and fitted the one specified for his apartment into the lock.

The front door pushed open. His blue eyes were drawn to Connie on the couch, with Sasha beside him. His girlfriend chowed on noodles out of a paper takeout box.

“Hi, guys.” Armin smiled at the both of them and laid his backpack next to the coatrack. He crouched to unlace his boots after.

Mouth full of noodles, Sasha  waved animatedly and flashed a smile in return.

Connie greeted him amiably with a “Hey there”. He smiled along with his girlfriend.

Armin was glad to see his friends and cursed the physical _pull_ towards Jean’s room right then. It wouldn’t do; He needed to ground and regain control over his feelings. They whizzed around his chest like pinballs.

Armin approached the kitchen and kept up his idle talk with Connie and Sasha. They all took turns detailing the events of their day. 

While opening the refrigerator, Armin grumbled about his impending “family dinner” – that he spoke about in air-quotations – with Nifa, Erwin and Jean.

He was sure to mention the imbalance of excitement between him and his boyfriend. 

“ _I_ don’t want to go, but he clearly does. I’m just gonna have to bite lip and bear it.” Armin said this quietly as not to rouse Jean from his bedroom.

They were quite wealthy in beer. The door of the fridge was abundantly stocked with both Coronas and Blue Moons, the latter of which being Jean’s  preferred brand.

Even his overbearing anxiety wouldn’t make Armin abstain from his rule of _not consuming alcohol._ Beer tasted awful to him, anyway.

The blond grabbed the plastic container of blackberries instead and, after rinsing them in the sink, started to lift morsels of the fruit to his lips.

His back faced the living room so, for a short while, Armin was ignorant to the other body that had joined him in the kitchen.

It wasn’t until he felt the solidity of a chest and and strong hands on his hips that Armin halted in his actions. He _knew._

“It was real fucked up to get me all ready to see you and then _not_ come to my room…” Jean’s breath warmed the back of his neck.

Other feelings warred in Armin’s mind, but the veil lifted when it concerned how effortlessly _sexy_ Jean could be at times.

He tried to appear calm while placing a blackberry onto his tongue.

“I only just got home...” Armin turned a bit to catch his eyes. The position was reminiscent of that moment they shared in the Kirschsteins’ kitchen.

Armin remembered how delicious it had felt to release all that tension by way of fervidly tonguing in Jean’s mouth…

“I doubt a few more minutes without me would’ve made much difference,” Armin said, his chewing slowed as Jean bent to kiss his jaw. His finger hovered by his mouth. There was something about that sensation in particular that made heat rise in Armin’s stomach.

“It made all the difference.” Jean grabbed for a blackberry himself. He moved away from Armin, staying close when he leaned his body against the counter.

“I wouldn’t have come out here otherwise. I was thinking… We could watch SVU or play Scrabble, or something else.”

Armin’s eyes planted on the carton of fruit. His resolve was declining exponentially; Right then, he could think to do nothing but oblige Jean in what he wanted.

“Let’s go to your room then,” Armin allowed, realizing it would be unfair to seem so ambivalent. He didn’t want to drive Jean away, and that would be the outcome if he continued with his contradictions.

Armin made a calculated decision then;  He knew what measures had to be taken. The debonair nature of Jean’s smile only fueled his fire.

He let himself be guided out of the kitchen and to the archway that divided living room and hallway.

Just before taking his leave,  Armin spared a smile at Connie and Sasha.

“If I don’t see you guys again before I go to sleep, goodnight!”

Jean professed his own version of that and then, they disappeared into the dimly-lit hall.

No words were exchanged as they walked to Jean’s bedroom. Armin kept his head down, wondering repeatedly if what he was about to initiate was indeed the _right thing._  A great portion of him felt it was.

His history of being evasive (as Jean so generously put it) made him nervous. His boyfriend may’ve been unfailingly loving, but Armin doubted he’d want to put up with it forever. No one would willingly choose that fate.

_‘I need something tangible to show him he matters to me… because he does. So freaking much…’_

And in the end, that presided over his discomfort about _this_ level of intimacy.

The door to Jean’s bedroom opened and closed right after.

“Fuck,” Jean sighed once they were alone, “I really missed you, angel...”

He perched on the edge of his bed and looked at the blond boy with expectance in his eyes.

“So Scrabble or SVU?”

Armin sauntered his way over and lowered so he was sitting astride Jean’s hips. His arms went around his neck and he leaned in close, whispering in his ear.

“I have a better idea…”

Then, the kiss Armin gave was heavy with lust, and an unsaid need. He rocked against Jean, moaning softly into his lips when the sizable outline of him slotted with Armin’s ass.

There was a moment when Jean seemed to crave the stimulation, then he broke the kiss with jarring speed and stared questioningly into the blond’s eyes.

“What are you doing, Armin?”

He was confused by Jean’s reaction.

“I’m…” Armin cleared his throat. “I’m finishing what we started this morning. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Jean appeared utterly thunderstruck, which Armin didn’t get at all. Here he was _throwing himself at him_. He thought he’d be appreciative.

“I want to play Scrabble. I thought I’d made that clear.”

Jean’s palm caressed the smoothness of Armin’s cheek.

“…I know there’s a reason you’ve been avoiding this lately. I kinda figured that much...”

With ease, Armin was lifted up and off Jean’s lap.

“And it’s completely okay. Armin, look… I know you’re uncomfortable. You don’t need to put up a front, but you also don’t need to talk about it until you’re ready.” His tone was caked with honey-sweetness.

“Take as much time as you need, okay? I don’t want you to feel pressured, not ever.”

Then his lips stretched into a tender smile. Armin blinked, finding difficulty comprehending what Jean had said.

 _‘He knows?’_ Armin opened and closed his mouth. He felt panic creeping in, but then he thought on the guileless quality of his boyfriend’s speech. Armin wouldn’t say it _didn’t_ inspire a feeling of being safe.

“J-Jean…” Armin stared into his eyes, his lip wedging between his teeth. “Can you just… hold me? I promise I don’t want anything more. I’d just… be a lot more comfortable like that.”

Jean’s smile broadened. He wrapped the small male up in his arms without a word, bringing him close with his chin laid on the top of his head. He stroked Armin’s hair gently.

“Mm…”

Armin was lulled by the palliative sensation. He nuzzled his chest with an entirely _drunk_ smile.

“We can play Scrabble soon…” he sighed. “This was just what I needed, Jean.”

His boyfriend’s lips pressed to his blond head.

“I know. It’s okay if it’s in the foreseeable future... I’m honestly content to stay like this for a while.”

So they did. Jean was so solid and _sure_ against him, Armin felt inclined to close his eyes.

That queer emotion he’d been harboring for the other recently reappeared. It made Armin tip up and kiss the taller boy full on the mouth.

It was apparent then, he’d have to remind himself it was far _too soon_ to feel for Jean like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme of this chapter is “I think maybe I love him right now? Idk.”
> 
> Read me a really angsty Jearmin and needed to wash the taste out of my mouth so their interactions might’ve been extra cloying this go around? Tbh I can’t tell.
> 
>  
> 
> Song for this chapter:  
> Pieces - Andrew Belle


End file.
